Mr Comfort
by Astronomer Always
Summary: The most popular kid on the playground to this. Just a series of TJ/various. TJ just trying to be a good friend (with benefits) with everyone.
1. King Bob

**Hm.**

* * *

TJ would be lying if he said he never thought or dreamt about a situation like this one.

Downstairs, music played loudly as students from school danced and drunk, a typical party at one of the Ashley's mansions. Right now, he couldn't bring himself to remember exactly which one, but to be honest, he didn't care. With the dimmed light, it was easy for the high school sophomore to sneak away without being noticed by anyone. Hopefully, he could sneak back down without any questions being asked.

The hand he was holding pulled him into a nearby room. By the looks of it, it didn't belong to any person, so it was probably a guest room.

"This room should be fine," Robert said. The former king locked the bedroom door and pulled TJ closer to them.

The loud music downstairs faded into the background as the kissed. They held each other close, Robert rubbing his fingers through TJ's chestnut colored hair with one hand and the other on hip. He pushed him against the door as their kissing became more heated, and they reached underneath each other's shirt.

Robert loved how soft his boyfriend was. He wasn't fat by any means, but slightly chubby, something he never quite lost from his childhood, despite his best efforts. Robert has glad he never lost it. He loved it, it only made him more huggable, a perfect match for his personality. He was going to miss this when he goes off for college.

He pulled his boyfriend over to the bed, though while he sat down, TJ refused to, breaking off their kiss.

"What's the matter?" Robert asked.

"Nothing. I just feel like doing something else," said TJ.

Robert watched instead of asking what. The younger high schooler gave him one quick kiss before kneeling down on the carpet in front of him and separated his legs. He gently kissed Roberts lower stomach while unbuckling and unzipping his jeans. Slowly, the senior leaned back and laid down on the bed as his pants we opens and pulled down, along with their boxer briefs.

Robert reached down and ran his fingers through his boyfriends soft hair, gripping it whenever a wave of pleasure rippled through his body. A warm hand pumped his length, while gentle kisses were placed around his base. It stopped, and Robert inhaled deeply as the warm hand was replaced by a warm and wet mouth.

The younger ones tongue ran up the underside of his dick, almost bringing him to the edge too soon. Feeling his boyfriend bob up and down, Robert couldn't help but arch his back.

" _Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. . ._ " Robert hissed. "Shit, Detweiler. . ."

He managed to sit up again, and looked die at his boyfriend. TJ looked up at him with half lidded eyes.

"Ha. ..you look really cute with my cock in your mouth."

His boyfriend gave him a mischievous look before closing His eyes and concentrating. Robert but his lip to keep to keep from shouting out, and alerting anyone who might be walking by the their presence. The sophomore hummed, and the vibrations from his throat only pushed Robert closer to the end. Gripping his hair, Robert 'helped' him along, pushing his head further down, while thrusting his hips.

He climaxed, spurring strings of hot, sticky cum down his lovers throated. There was a pause as TJ swallowed his seed before separating himself. He wiPEd the side of his mouth and sat next to Robert.

"I'll never get over how great you are at that," Robert breathed.

"Only the best for you," said TJ.

Robert nodded, and pulled him closer. They would have to go back down soon. Someone must've noticed they were gone by now. Still, he wanted to spend another quiet moment alone before heading out.

After straightening his clothes, the couple left the guest bedroom and returned downstairs to the rest of the party. Only for a little bit, however. The music soon became overwhelming, and they called it an early night, and left the party in Roberts beat up truck.

"You're gonna miss me while you're gone?" TJ asked and they drove down the road.

"Of course I am. What kind of question is that?" Robert asked. "I love you, Detweiler."

"I know, and I love you, too. Its just, you're going to be 5 hours away. At a huge school, with a bunch of other guys who would be a better fit for you," he said. "I'm just worried."

Robert nodded. "I know."

"My friends left me. My parents divorced and barely speak to me. And now you're leaving for college soon," he said.

"But I will be back. There's fall break, winter break, spring break, summer break. You don't have to worry about this," Robert said. "It's all going to be okay. Do you believe me?"

". . .yeah. I believe you."

"Good."

Robert gave his hand a gentle squeeze and continued driving.

* * *

 **This is either going to be a oneshot or a series of TJ/various. Haven't decided yet.**


	2. Vince

**This will probably just be a series of stories about TJ getting around. The title probably gave it away. None of these are related unless I say so.**

 **This pairing is under appreciated and we need more of it.**

". . . .And it's stupid, because anyone with two working eyes would've seen that fuck up, but not this ref. Nope. I'm just lucky that it didn't cost us the game."

After a hard game, Vince was really to sit back relax and maybe indulge in some junk food. Especially after this one in particular. They still won by a good number of points, but in his opinion, it should've been by more. But they were still in for the championship, so that kept him from getting too mad about it. That and _this_.

Nothing helped clear his mind like getting his dick sucked. Worked like a charm.

Vince sat back on his bed, his back against the wall. With his bedroom door locked, he relaxed,

"I'm willing to bet that they payed that ref off so their fuck ups get a pass."

"Mmm hmmmmhm mhm."

"I can't understand what you're saying with my dick in your mouth, man."

With an audible "pop", TJ detached himself and busies his left hand with stroking his closes friends dick.

"I said they probably did," he said. "Going up against the only undefeated team, they'd want to do whatever they could to win."

"Yeah, but it all was wasted 'cause we won anyways."

"Mm-hmm."

Finally, the basketball star let go of those thoughts and focused on the task at hand as his length was taken back inside an awaiting mouth. How long have they had this arrangement? A simple friends with benefits set up whenever one of them needed it (though 9 times out of 10, it was Vince making the call)? It must've been about a year now.

It started out as pure curiosity on Vince's end. Someone on the team had come out, and while he wasn't a homophobe by any means, Vince didn't see the appeal of sleeping with another dude. Still, he, along with the rest of the team, reassured that one team member that things will still be the same between them.

He doesn't remember how it was brought up in conversation, but he had bought it up while talking to TJ, who commented something along the lines of 'it's not that different.' They they ended up fucking. It really was as simple as that.

After all that time, it seemed that TJ had memorized every single one of his most sensitive spots, and was exploiting that knowledge to the fullest extent as he circled his swollen head with his tongue.

He took his time, paying close attention to every spot as we took more into his mouth. Vince resisted the urge to grab his hair and push him down. He had time to kill, anyways. But he was making it hard to keep his hands to himself.

TJ looked up at him with a smirk in eyes (how did he do that. . .?). He knew exactly what he was doing, the cheeky bastard. Well, if that was the game he was going to play, then he'll play, too.

He clenched and unclenched his fists with his sheets in his grip. He's been in this position before, all he had to do was wait it out.

" _Ohhhh. . . .shit,"_ He moaned, as a slight pressure was placed on the bottom underside of his shaft. "I hate you so much, TJ."

"Mm Hmm hm hhmh."

He picked his speed, bobbing his head up and down as he swirled his tongue. With wave after wave shorting through his body, Vince felt like he was going to fall apart any second. Still, he kept his hands at his sides, determined to win this one.

Meanwhile, kneeled down, TJ was completely enamoured with his work. The entire length of his friends sick in his mouth and down his throat, going from soft to hard, feeling every little detail on ha tongue as he brough him closer and closer to completion. It was a thrill to say the least. He slowed his pace as he felt the subtle throbs of an impending orgasm.

Even as his very lower stomach trembled as his climax approached like a train. His resolve finally broke, and he tightly gripped his friends hair, gaining some control over his ministrations. It was oh so satisfying to hear those choking sounds from him.

He yanked back his head just has he came. Strings of sticky cum landed on his face, shooting out in short spurts. Vince let go of his hair, panting, once he was done. He fell back onto the bed with his eyes closed. He could hear TJ stand and walk over to his desk, probably to get a tissue to clean his face.

"Feel better, now?" TJ asked.

"Uh-huh. I'm gonna sleep so hard tonight," Vince sighed. "Thanks, man."

"No problem. Guess I better go; you probably want to sleep now, huh?"

"Yeah. . .I'll see you later, then?"

"Always."

The last thing Vince heard was his bedroom door closing as he drifted off to sleep.

 **I'm taking requests, I suppose. It's all going to be TJ/various, so keep that in mind.**


	3. Lawson and Others

**This is a damn mess. Double entendre.**

 **Someone asked for TJ/Lawson. I hope TJ/Lawson/Others is good enough. If not, I'll give it another go.**

* * *

"You're the best for doing this."

"Yeah, I know. I even charged you half price."

Lawson lead the way to his apartment, firmly holding onto TJ's hand. TJ himself couldn't tell if it was because he was excited or didn't want him to run off with his money. Probably a mix of both, knowing Lawson of all people. The apartment building he lived in had no elevator, leaving them with climbing the stairs all the way to the top floor. Lawson was somewhat used to it by now. TJ, less so.

"So is this going to be awkward for you, or. . .?"

"Awkward because it's a group thing? Nah, I've been in these before."

"Slut."

"Yep."

"No, I mean about _who_ is here. Most of it's just guys from the team you don't know, but LaSalle is here, too."

"Wow. Didn't take Vince to be one to like gay gangbangs."

"So is it going to be weird or not?"

"For me? No. It'll be kind of funny on my end. Maybe for him it might be."

"I guess you're used to this sort of thing."

"Yep."

Lawson scoffed as he searched his pockets for his keys. After sorting through for the right ones, he opened the door to his apartment. Already on the couch were four of friends from the team. Three of which TJ didn't recognize, along with Vince. On the table was a ton of alcohol, mostly beer.

"Lawson, what the hell? I thought you said it would be someone we didn't know!" Vince said.

"Yeah, I said that to Jason, Ben, and Andrew. I didn't tell _you_ that," Lawson said. "You can back out if you want. It's not like we started yet."

Vince scoffed before leaning back in his seat. He refused to make eye contact.

"Don't be like that, LaSalle. He's cute," Jason said. The tallest out of the five of them, he was sturdily built. Messy black hair and dark eyes, he was quite a looker and got the attention of the female population. He stood, and pulled TJ over to him. "Look at those freckles. C'mon, turn around and let us get a good look at ya."

While holding his hand, Jason turned him around.

"You guys have a lot of alcohol here," TJ said.

"What's a good time without drinks?" Ben asked. The shortest out of the three, Ben was also the fittest. Neatly combed red hair, hazel eyes, and a tanned complexion, he stood out the most.

"I've been told I'm a better fuck when I'm drunk."

"Then have as many as you want," said Jason. "We didn't buy them for nothing." Tall and dashing, Jason had to be the definition of heartthrob. Styled, dirty blonde hair, green eyes, and a smile that could bring puppies back to life, so some claim.

They settled in, drinking and carrying a conversation that was halfassed until the mood shifted. TJ proved to be a somewhat lightweight, taking a lot less to start feeling the effects of alcohol. Which was just fine for the others, as their hands began to move and touch around him, passing the increasing drunk guy between them.

"So what's your name? Erwin didn't tell us."

"Ah. . .right now you can call me Jasper. . ."

"You do this kind of thing often, sweetheart?"

"Mmm. . . not that often. . ."

"Not that often? When was the last time you were in something like this?"

"Um. . I think. .I think maybe 2 weeks ago. . "

"Two weeks ago? That's crazy. Was it fun?"

He nodded.

"I bet it was."

"Mm hmm. . .he's still angry. ."

"Who, sweetheart?"

"Vince. . .Vince is all angry lookin'. I dont like it. Vince. Dont be angry."

"Yeah, LaSalle. Youre ruining the mood," said Ben. "Lighten up."

Vince scoffed.

"Vince. Hey, Vince," TJ said. He leaned over to get his attention.

"What?"

"I'll suck you first if you stop looking so mad. Ive been told Ive got a real talent for it."

". . .no thanks, dude."

"Just ignore him for now. He'll lighten up soon enough," said Andrew. He pulled TJ over to him and into his lap. "Just focus on us, right now, okay sweetheart?"

Andrew ran his hands through his hair a few times before pulling him closer for a kiss. Fueled by alcohol, it quickly became heated. Whatever conversation that was going to happen came to a halt. Andrew lightly rubbed the small of TJs back, getting a low moan out of him. he adjusted his position until he was facing Andrew, straddling him, with his hands on his shoulders.

Ben, not one to be left out, pulled one of his arms over to him. His hand trailed down until they were in his, and towards his groan. Once placed over the hardening bulge in his pants, TJ began to rub gentle circles, before toying with his zipper.

"You're a really good kisser," Andrew said, after breaking their kiss. "You should put that mouth of yours to go use."

"S'what I'm here for. . ."

"So then, how about you get on your knees?"

Andrew lifted his own shirt off before helping and increasingly drunk TJ out of his. They watched him clumsily climb off of Andrews lap and settle on his knees in front of him. He fumbled, but managed to unbuckle and unzip his jeans. He gave his cock a few pumps before taking it into his mouth. the room became filed with the sounds of Andrews hollowed pants and wet, sucking sounds.

". . ah. . shit, you werent lying. . ." Andrew breated. "Fuck. ."

Meanwhile, Lawson and Jason watched with growing arousal. They rubbed the growing tents in their pants as the enthusiastic sucking sounds coming from their 'guest'. It was hard not to jump in and steal that mouth away to use for themselves, but things were just beginning. There was no need to jump in quite yet.

Andrew gently pushed him off just before it became too intense and he lost himself. "Keep going like that and I would've cum too early. Can we take this to the bedroom, yet?"

"Yeah, there's more room to move around in there," said Lawson. "C'mon."

Andrew and Ben helped TJ get to his feet and made their way to Lawson's bedroom, with Jason following close behind. Lawson started to follow, but stopped.

"You coming, LaSalle? Or are you going to just gonna mope?" He asked.

"There wasn't _anyone_ else you could have got?" Vince asked. "Why'd it have to be TJ of all people?"

"Because I'm a loyal customer and he gets the job done. Plus he only charged half price since he was in the mood for a gangbang, anyways. I wasn't passing that up," said Lawson. "So you coming or not?"

". . .I'll think about it."

"Better make up your mind, dude."

With that, Lawson left him behind.

#

When he caught up with the others, Jason was already balls deep inside their call boy. He pounded away, rocking his hips while swearing under his breath. He tightly gripped TJ's hips to keep him steady. Andrew and Ben, not ones to be left out, found entertainment elsewhere. Ben guided his head up and down on his cock while Andrew keeping one of his free hands pumping his. They quickly settled into a rhythm as the only sound heard was them panting.

Lawson pushed their abandoned clothes on the floor aside as he made his way to his bed. Jasons thrusts became more erratic as waves f pleasure started to shoo through his entire body. He felt his lower stomach tremble from his incoming orgasm.

" _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. . ."_ He chanted, as he gave one last thrust as he came. His posture went slack as he breathed. "A-ah ha. . .you really are a good lay, sweetheart."

It went like that for what must've been hours. Lawson and Andrew switching placed with Jason and Ben, and vise versa, each lost in the moment, lost in the pleasure, without a care in the world.

At the very end the four of them stood in a circle, climaxing together, and releasing hot strings of cum all over their call boys face, in one final climax.

"Here." Andrew handed a small fold of dollars to Lawson after they all got dressed. Left on the bed was TJ, who had fallen asleep, curled under the sheets. "Give that to him when he wakes up."

"A tip?"

"Yep. I always tip good service," he said. "We'll see you later, man."

Lawson paused, looking at the sleeping cal boy in his bed. How someone could just so casually fall asleep after all this was beyond him. He slept, looking peaceful as a person could be. Lawson rolled his eyes before heading to the kitchen.

"Shit, LaSalle, you're still here?" Lawson asked, still seeing Vince sitting on his couch. "I thought you would've left by now. If you're still trying to get in, Detweilers knocked out so it's not going to happen."

"I only stayed behind because I wanted to talk to him," he said.

"Uh-huh. You might have to wait a while for that, dude."

"How are you comfortable with this?" Vince snapped. "You knew him in elementary school, but you rent him out like it's nothing."

"Hey. He gets the job done," said Lawson.

"And you're not worried about him at all?"

"No? I mean a little bit, LaSalle, but he shows up to our classes without a problem, so he must be alright," he said.

"Well, I can't just get over my friend being a call boy," said Vince. "When he wakes up, tell him to call me, alright?"

"Sure, whatever."

Lawson bit into an apple as Vince left.

* * *

 **Still taking requests.**


	4. King Bob Again

**I just felt like writing some power play.**

* * *

"You were good tonight. You stayed close to me. You stayed quiet, being the perfect trophy. Seen but not heard. Much better than last time."

"Thank you, sir."

"Mmm. Good boy. Now, go get me a drink. We had a long day."

Robert leaned back in his favorite chair, relaxing his muscles as TJ walked into the kitchen. They had just gotten back from an important party for the elite and wealthy. Most were simply there to make connections and scope out the competition.

He heard a glass being set on the small table next to him. He opened his eyes and saw jt was a simple glass of wine. Robert eatched as his husband walked to the front of his seat and kneeled. He removed his shoes and socks, placing them aside. Robert would never get tired of this. . . little arrangement they had. He smirked as he gentle undid his tie, just like Robert told him he liked it. He let out a relaxed sigh as he kicked his legs up. Perfect.

He sipped his wine, further unwinding from the party. Robert was never one for those things. Making connections felt more of hastle than anything, but if he had to go, he might as well have some fun with his husband, who agreed on the whole business socializing speal.

It was easy enough. At least half of the businessmen there had a wife who clung to their arm and served as nothing more than a trophy. perfect.

Sometime into his relaxing, Robert dozed off. he woke up with a light blanket over him, and the slund of mlvement in the kitchen. with a smirk, he climbed out lf his favorite seat to see what is favorite toy was up to.

Robert found his oh so loving husband at the kitchen sink. He slowly walked behind him, and gently placed his hands on the youngers hips, and pulled him towards him, his groin rubbing against him.

"What are you doing, love?" Robert whispered. His voice sent exciting chills down TJ's spine.

"Just cleaning."

"Just cleaning, hmm?"

Robert turned him so they were face to face. He ran his finger through his husbands hair.

"How long was I out, sweetheart?"

"About an hour, sir. i cleaned our bedroom, did our laundry, cleaned the kitchen. . "

"Good boy. i trained you well, didn't I?"

"Yes, sir,"

Robert pulled him in closer, kissing him. with one hand on his lovers hip, and the other on the back of his head, Robert felt him melt in his arms, with not an ounce of resistance. Robert deepened the kiss, earning a man out of him.

"What am I going to do with you?" Robert asked. He played with the buttons on TJ's shirt.

"I'm sure you'll think of something, sir," He said.

"You're right. And I think I have an idea."

Robert took his hand and led the way to their large master bedroom, pausing to pepper him with kisses on the way. Their bedroom housed a king sized bed, and looked to be the definition of classy. Robert separated from him for a moment, to light a few candles already on their dressers. The room slowly became illuminated with dim candlelight.

Robert pulled, nearly yanking him, into his embrace. He loved how his husband melted in his grasp, giving no resistance and handing over control to him. Robert would never get tired of it. He always loved having power. It drove him in his work, and in love. Finding someone who trusted him enough, who loved handing over that control to someone else as much as he liked having it, who trusted him enough with it, was like hitting the jackpot.

After unbuttoning and removing TJ's shirt, Robert pushed him down on the bed. Underneath were ropes intricately wrapped around and tied around his torso. Robert spent a lot of time on those, and it was worth it. He hooked a finger around a line and tugged, causing his husband to arch his back.

"You look really good like this, you know that? Do you trust me?" Robert asked him.

"Yes, sir."

Robert reached into his back pocket for the blindfold he grabbed from his dresser. Tenderly, he tied it around TJ's eyes, making sure the knot was tightened.

"Do you still trust me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mm. . ."

Robert traced his fingers along the ropes as he climbed on the bed, straddling his hips. His fingers continued upward, until they traced along his collarbone, causing goosebumps to spread across his skin. He firmly wrapped his fingers around his neck. he could feel bith their pulses.

"You still trust me, love?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ha. . .you trust too easily."

Robert let go of his grasp around his neck. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. He had it custom made, just for him, with his, well, _their_ last name engraved on it. _Kingsman._ He flipped open the blade, and ran its side against TJs skin. He hummed, before swiftly cutting him. It was barely more than a paper cut in its depth, but it was enough to draw beads of blood. Underneath him, TJ hissed, but stayed still.

"I bet you still trust me," Robet hummed. He didn't wait for an answer. He tossed the pocketknife aside, and reached over for what he really wanted t play with; the burning candle on their nightstand.

Seeing that a good enough amount of wax had melted, Robert gently blew out the flame. He watched the smoke wave and rise, before slowly tilting downwards. The red, thick, steaming wax dripped down onto his lovers skin. TJ hissed, struggling not to cry out in pain as Robert moved the candle, getting the strings of wax all over. With no more to pour, Robert placed the candle on the floor.

Robert quickly removed his trousers, kicking them aside, and did the same for TJ, before climbing back into bed. He peppered the side of his face with kisses as TJ struggled to catch his breath. Robert nibbled the side of his neck, ready to eave a sizable hickey. With his free hand, he guided his hardened length inside his over. He thrust all the way, finally getting a gasp out of him.

With one hand wrapped firmly around TJ's neck, and another on his side, Robert thrust his hips forward in back in a firm and steady motion. Despite a hand around his neck, or maybe because of it, TJ wore just as blissful of an expression as Robert.

They lost themselves in the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. It's been too long since they fully indulged in their power exchange, and it's been a long time coming. The room became filled with their moans that echoed off the walls of their room.

Robert collapsed on top of his husband after they both came. He rolled over and panted, catching his breath. Opening his eyes, he saw the growing bruises around TJ's neck. It wasn't the first time it happened, and they kept enough makeup around to cover it up.

Robert found his pocketknife again and cut the robe tied around TJ's chest, and it all unraveled from around him. The two of them pulled each other loser, and them embraced under the plush blanket and pillows, slowly drifting off into a restful sleep.

* * *

 **Mikey's next, I promise this time. Then Gus.**

 **Reviews are highly motivating.**


	5. Mikey

To be honest? I don't think that this particular one is satisfactory to the request of TJ/Mikey, but I had like, 800 words of it down before I got the requests for those two.

Also, I am working on one with Spinelli. It's no just with guys, just to let you all know. It's just I've been writing him with guys. But it's all good. Enjoy.

* * *

Pushing down his nerves, Mikey opened his laptop and set it down at his coffee table while he sat on the couch. He would be lying if he said he was nervous. It wasnt like he did this sort of thing often. Or at all, really. It was only through the convincing of a close theatre friend that he managed to do this at all.

After a series of nervous clicks and logging in, he reached his destination. A simple site. . Nothing special. Or maybe he was trying to convince himself of that. One of his theater friends, in their quest to 'help a pal out', had surprised him by setting up an 'appointment' with a Cam Boy for him.

He'd be lying if he wasn't interested just a little bit. And there was no harm in watching justone,was there? It was already paid for, so it would be a waste of money if he didn't. He had to show that he was grateful.

Mikey clicked the link waiting in his inbox to the specific cam boy his friend set up. He said that this particular one 'was a real cute one'. Once the livestream started, he saw an empty couch. A hand came on camera, making a 'wait' signal. On the left side of the screen was a chat box, where other people who paid to watch had already logged in and talking among themselves

After about five minutes, he came on camera and sat on the couch. He wore a simple outside, a pair of jeans and white t-shirt. He was fit, but not overly so, with a bit of tummy. The chat exploded with greetings and winking typefaces. He waved at the camera in response. With messy brown hair and blue eyes, Mikey could see why so many people showed up to watch him. But after getting a good look at him, Mikey recognized who it was.

"Is that. . .TJ?" He whispered.

It's been years since he'd seen TJ, or any of his old friends, really. But this had to be him. A face full of freckles, messy brown hair, blue eyes, with a relaxed, welcoming, friendly look about him. That had to be TJ. A million questions popped up in his head.

It started simple enough, with him taking off his shirt. The chat exploded with suggestions right after. He was only able to read a few with how fast they were coming in.

:Please dont ever lose that tummy

:love love love

:get those pants out of the way, yeah?

:Give us a little dance while you unbuckle those jeans

He listened to the chats suggestions, and began to unbuckle his bet. He gently swung his hips with a knowing smirk on his face, enticing all those who were watching, Mikey included.

:tease

:do you have your fun box, sweetheart?

:wish I was there

He sat down on the couch and reached somewhere out of the cameras view. He pulled a small box into view and placed it on the table.

:what do you have this time?

:ooo did you get the ones I asked for?

"Heh. I got some stuff. I couldn't get all of it, but I tried my best."

Mikey jumped when he heard him speak. He didn't know there was audio. As he looked into the camera, it was like TJ was talking directly to him, and not an eager audience.

"I hope that's good enough, guys." He said teasingly.

: show us

: I wanna see it

: lets see what you got

Mikey watched as he pulled things out of the box one by one.

"Theres more, but I was hoping that we'd keep it simple tonight. Hope thats okay."

:always

He stood again, this time to step out of his pants

: deep throat it

:how much can you take in your mouth?

: suck on it. give us a show

"As you wish."

He took a few deep breaths before taking the tip kf the toy into his mouth. Slowly, he took more and more in, breathing through his nose and keeping his breathing steady.

:woah

:what a slut

:i bet thats nothing for you

He paused, then continued, moaning around the plastic cock as the base touched his lips.

:hell yeah

:no gag reflex any more, heh

He couldn't help but lightly rub the growing tent in his pants. He had a secret. Way back, all the way back in high school and puberty was working its magic on everyone, he had looked his way. It was hard not to. The girls certainly did, with his friendly and caring personality combined with his good looks, it was easy to see why he became the crush of so many of them. Mikey included. He never worked up the nerve to confess those feelings, and he had figured it had faded away into nothingness by now.

But now? Now they were coming back with a vengeance.

TJ moaned as he pulled the toy out of his throat and mouth with a resounding 'pop'. He wiped his mouth and sat the toy on the table in front of him.

:good boy

:stop teasing and get naked

:sit back relax and touch yourself

"You all are really impatient tonight, ha ha."

He lowered and removed his boxer briefs, and tossed them off camera, leaving him completely in the nude. He sat back on the couch, legs open, fully exposed to the camera.

:is that a tattoo

:lookie lookie there

:is that why you haven't been online?

They were all talking about a hard to miss tattoo on his left side. It wasn't anything special in it's design, just a relatively simple outline of a few blooming roses of all things. Mikey remembered one time in high school when some of the guys were getting those tribal tattoos because it was popular, that TJ had said he didn't see the appeal. Not only of that particular design, but of any tattoo. But surprise surprise. Here he was with one.

Then again, he probably didn't imagine being a cam boy, either. But things change, that's become clear.

"Ha ha, yeah. I couldn't do anything while it was healing up, so I had to take a few days off."

:enough talking

:get your little toy ready

He changed his attention from himself to the toy on the table. He picked it up and gave it a careful look over. Mikey watched as he took it in his mouth again, though, he stopped much shorter than the last time. Taking it out his mouth, he reached back into the box and pulled out a bottle. A bottle of lube. Snapping the cap open, he slathered it over the plastic cock.

"Heh, I'm not sure thing thing will even fit. You guys sure I should try?"

:duh

:yes yes

:itll fit

:it better fit

:try

Like the vast majority of those watching the livestream, Mikey started to let go of his concern and worry. He leaned back in his seat, and unzipped his pants, freeing himself. He stroked his hardening member as he watch his former friend lower himself onto the oversized toy.

He bit his lower lip, eyes glued to his computer screen, unable to look away. How could he? His former crush was on screen, fully exposed in front of him, in ways that he used to only be able to dream about. He kept pace with the video, as difficult as it was with the pants and moans coming from his laptop.

His orgasm hit him hard and fast, like a 16 wheeler truck. He slouched in his seat, out of breath, and exhausted. And from the looks of it, he could say the same for TJ.

After the livestream ended, Mikey was ready to close his laptop and take a shower to wash himself free of his sins, when he noticed a message icon popping up. Out of curiosity, he clicked on it.

"Hey. Noticed you were new. How's it going?" -J

He messaged him. Out of the dozens, or maybe even hundreds, who knew? people watching him, TJ was able to spot him out. Did he know who he was? Oh God, that would be more than awkward. Should he just ignore him and never come back to this site?

"You still there?" -J

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Great. How's it going?" -J

"Good."

"Just good? I was kind of distracted today, haha. Next time will be better. Hope you come for the show ;)" -J

". . .maybe."

"Or if you like, I can give you a private show ;)" -J

"Why?"

"Because I like to welcome new viewers with a little treat." -J

"No, I mean why are you doing this whole cam boy thing?"

Mikey couldn't stop his fingers from typing out exactly what was on his mind. When else would he be able to ask this question? How could he not? out of all the things in the world he could imagine TJ doing, this was not one of them. Hell, did the others know about this?

"It's good money. Gotta pay for Law School somehow." -J

"You're in Law School?"

That would make sense. TJ always did have a knack for defending others and fighting for what's just. A career in law would be perfect for him, not this. Christ, anything but this.

"Haha, nah. I'm just joking ;P." -J

"Art School." -J

"I got bills to pay, and this is a fun way to pay 'em." -J

"I suppose."

"But what do your friends think?"

Five minutes passed until he got a reply.

"Why do you care so much? What's your deal, dude? Do you just come on cam sites to ask us about our lives?" -J

"No. Your friends can't know if you don't actually have any. Is that good enough for you?" -J

"Nevermind. If you ever come back here, just come to get your rocks off and get lost." -J

Before Mikey could type anything else, he logged off. Well. That could've gone better, he thought.

* * *

Gus is next. Probably. I don't know what I'm going to do there. I'm still taking requests, though.


	6. TJ I guess idk

This is 100 percent related to the last King Bob/TJ piece. Mostly because I'm still not over power play. I honestly don't know how often we'll get one of these in TJ's perspective.

* * *

I love keeping my husband happy.

My tall, strong, hard working, determined, husband. He works so hard, each and every day. I love taking care of him once hes home. I take his jacket, shoes, and briefcase, and let him rest in his favorite seat with his favorite drink. He deserves it. He deserves to come home to a nice, clean home with dinner in the oven.

Robert always been so ambitious, that's why he makes more than enough to support us both. I'm happy to support him at home. He was so insistent on me being a house husband. Not that I mind. We both ended up getting what we liked.

I love when he spoils me with gifts and trips, of course. Who would say they wouldn't like those things? And he loves showing me off. I can't count the number of times we'd go out with all the other wealthy elites, and he'd keep his arm possessively around me. I love when he grabs me, and pulls me into his muscular arms. I cant help but go completely weak in his hold. That too; his assertiveness, how he goes after what he wants, its part of the reason I fell so hard for him.

He can grab and order me around as much as he likes.

I almost cant describe it, the strange satisfaction I feel with taking care of him, and filling the 'lesser' role that so many others would see fit only for a wife. Being the more docile, or even the submissive one out of the two of us, its quite enjoyable. We both like it. Just seeing the relaxed look on his face is enough for me. He doesn't have to worry about a thing once hes home.

So it doesn't matter to me if sometimes he likes showing me off as a trophy, or when we play our little games in public, or if hes extremely domineering in bed, I love those things, too. Especially in bed, oh God. I love it when his hand is around my throat so tight that I can feel his pulse. Most people be afraid for their lives, but I trust him completely with mine.

I love him so very, very much. And I love serving him.


	7. Spinelli

**And now for the most written pair in this fandom. Don't expect it often, I just want to get this one out of the way.**

* * *

The dead of summer. The sun beamed down unmercifully and threatened to burn anyone who was stupid enough to step outside. Most people took refuge inside with air conditioning or in a pool. Which few were outside were sweating buckets. Spinelli was one of those people.

She sat on the step of her porch, with a melting ice cream cone in her hand. With her hair pinned up and out of her face and off her neck, she wore shorts and tank top, the only appropriate outfit in this type of weather. She forgoed wearing a bra, however, much to her parents dismay. She hates wearing one of those things on a regular day, asking her to wear one on a day this hot was just unnecessary torture.

But she sat outside, getting a decent view of her long time neighbor and friend. He was out in the heat, too, doing work of all things. First it was mowing the lawn, which caught her attention, and now it was washing the car while wearing basketball shorts. It was a sight to behold, in her opinion.

The chubby faced, funny looking kid turned into quite a looker. Strong, cute, sweet, an actual teddy bear. Of she knew he was going to look like this year's ago she would be made a move then. But still, it's not too late, even if TJ was as dense as a brick at her attempts at flirting. He was cute but kind of dumb sometimes.

But goddamn if she wasn't getting any of that dick today, though. Its boiling, the AC was broken, and so was her battery operated boyfriend, three things that combined to make the most intense frustration she was dealing with.

Tossing her cone aside, she crossed the street.

"Oh, hey Spin. I was wondering if you were going to come over or just sit there and look angry all day," said TJ. "What's up?"

"I want your dick."

"Um. .what?" he nearly choked.

"I want to have sex with you. Right now," she said.

"Right now? Like right _now_ now?" He asked. She nodded. ". . okay? Sure? We can go to my room, my parents are gone, but this is kind of out of nowhere."

"It really isn't. I've been hitting on you for months but it never went through your thick head," said Spinelli.

"Oh that? I thought you were just joking around," he laughed. "I didn't think you could actually be interested in me. I thought you could do a lot better."

"Goddammit, TJ."

"Sorry, Spin. That must've been really frustrating."

"It was. Can we go fuck, now?"

"Right. Sure, c'mon."

He turned off the hose, and they went inside into the refreshing cooled air. now out of the sun, Spinelli was better able to see the freckles not only on his face, but all over his body that were only pronounced enough to see when he had a tan. Especially his back, hot damn was she weak for back muscles. They headed upstairs to TJ's bedroom, and locked the door just in case.

She was the one to put a start to things, grabbing and kissing him feverishly. She felt him place his hands on her hips, guiding her to his bed. they quickly became entangled, pulling each other close and forgetting about the world for just a little while.

Goosebumps ran along Spinelli's skin when she felt TJ's hand reach under her tank top and lift it up. They broke apart for a second for her to take it off. The cool air felt intensely refreshing on her skin. With one of his hands on her waist and the other gently cupping her breast, she was ready to get past all this slow and soft junk.

She was laid down, with her closest friend above her. She felt his hand fumble and unbuckled her shorts before pulling them down.

"Wow. Pink panties."

"Shut up."

"Not that I think about it a lot, but I just assumed you would wear black ones. With skulls. On fire. These even have little hearts on them, haha."

"Jesus Christ, TJ."

"It's cute, though."

"Are you trying to kill the mood? Because that's what you're doing."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

They went back to kissing. Her skin tingled as she felt his free hand stroking her inner thighs. The cool air worked at waining her frustration, and she relaxed on the bed, her aggressiveness from moments ago fading as she focused on the gentle, caring touches all over her body.

From her lips to her neck to her chest, she shivered as his kisses trailed down her body, mysteriously on where she was the most sensitive. As he reached her tummy, she felt him pull down her panties, and lifted her hips to help. He tossed them somewhere, and she couldn't bring herself to care. She was left laying completely in the nude on her childhood friends bed.

They embraced each again, with deep, heated, and passionate kissing. She felt one his hand trail down her body, pausing to caress her breast. His hand continued travelling lower. She gasped, as he worked his fingers deeper into her folds, getting them slick.

"Wow. You weren't kidding earlier," he said. "You _really_ want this."

"More than you know."

After his shorts were tossed aside, TJ wrapped her legs around his sides, giving him easy access to her entrance. She held him close to her body has she felt her inner walls stretch to accomidate him.

The room quickly became filled with the found of their panting and moaning. They forgot about the blistering heat outside in exchange between the growing heat between themselves. Spinelli gripped and dragged her nails along TJ's back as they both reached their climax, leaving reddening scratches behind.

"Better?" TJ asked. The two of them laid together, understandably tired.

"Much better, you just don't know," said Spinelli. "I really owe you one, dude."

"Nah, you don't owe me anything. I'm glad to help out."

"Ha, I'm sure you are," she said. "So. . ."

"So?"

"I told you how I've been hitting on you for a while, but you were being clueless. Have you never, you know, thought about me like that?"

"Oh. I mean, yeah, I guess," he said.

"You _guess?_ Way to make a girl feel special, Teej."

"No, no, it's not like that. I think you're beautiful. One of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. I think you're attractive, obviously. But I dunno."

"You don't know?"

"Right. I don't know. It's not just you, when I see other girls I think are pretty, it's more of an objective sort of thing. Like I can see why someone _else_ could want to sleep with them, and I can tell if they're pretty, but I've never felt like 'oh, I really want to sleep with that girl'," he explained. "I didn't mind sleeping with you, 'cause you're my friend and needed it, but honestly, I could probably go my whole life without the whole sex thing."

". . . _Oh."_

 _"_ You think it's weird."

"No, Teej, I don't think it's weird. Have you ever thought you might be asexual?" She asked.

"What's that?"

"It's when someone isn't attracted to other people. One of my friend in art class is ace, and she describes it like you just did."

"Oh. I guess I am, then."

"See? You learn something need everyday," she said, yawning. "I should probably get home. You parents like me, but I don't think they like me enough to not freak out seeing me naked in your bed."

"Yeah. But you don't have to leave if you don't want to. You don't have AC. We can just hang out."

"You know what? That sounds like a good idea."

* * *

 **Hm. Good 'ol fashioned TJ/Spinelli. Gus is coming up, I swear. It's turning out to be longer than I thought.**


	8. Gus

**I was in the mood for loving care.**

* * *

Sometime in the daylight hours, Gus felt the sunlight peaking through his bedroom curtains. He turned over, covering his eyes with the covers. He wasn't ready to face the day yet. Or ever. If he could stay in bed for the rest of his life, that would be wonderful. He felt his head throb, no doubt from his night of drinking that his army buddies took him last night in an attempt to get him 'up and out', as they put it. How did he even get back to his apartment? They must've carried him; he doesn't have a clear memory of what happened.

Slipping in and out of sleep, he thought he felt his bed shift, though he stayed perfectly still. Must be the alcohol messing with his mind. That's it. His bed didn't shift, and he didn't feel someone lightly kiss his forehead, and he didn't smell breakfast being cooked.

He buried himself deeper into his blankets, wishing the world to go away. He didn't bother peaking out until someone started to lightly shake him. Gus groaned, and mustered up the strength to open his eyes. Once his vision cleaned after a few blinks, he was able to see who was in his apartment. Kind of short, short brown hair, blue eyes, freckles. Recognizing him, Gus was able to sober up just enough.

"TJ?"

"Yeah, it's me, Gus. How ya doing? You were drinking pretty hard last night," said TJ.

"What are you doing here?"

"You brought me here? We ran into each other at a bar and you brought me to your place," he said.

"Oh. . .Oh God, did we. . .?"

"Uh-huh," said TJ. "Well. . .not really. We started to, but you started crying so we both fell asleep."

Gus hummed, and slowly sat up. He wrapped his blanket around him like a cocoon. With a headache like the one he felt, he needed a week to recover. He dealt with migraines, and he would rather deal with a few of those back to back than this.

"Hold on, I've got something to help with that hangover."

Gus watched him step out of his bedroom. Oh God. His apartment was a mess. Hell, saying it was a mess was a massive understatement. It was pathetic, he knew it as, but he couldn't bring himself to bother cleaning it up. It was just him here, and he spent most of the time in bed, anyways. When TJ returned, it was with a glass of some green liquid.

"What's that?" Gus asked.

"Pickle juice." Gus cringed. "I know, I know, but it'll help, I promise."

Gus looked at the glass warily, but with nothing to lose, he took it, and chugged it down, doing his best to ignore the taste.

"You hungry? I made breakfast," he said. "I had to go get some stuff from the store, but it was just down the street."

"Breakfast? Um. . .yeah, yeah. That sounds great, just give me a minute."

TJ nodded, and left him in his room. Christ, what did he get himself into? Unraveling himself, Gus looked around his bed for the prosthetic for his left leg. He found it peaking out from under his discarded clothes. Once he made sure it was secure, he tried to make himself look somewhat presentable, getting into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, before brushing his teeth and stepping out of his bedroom.

Instead of being greeted by the sight of a pigsty, he was met with an apartment that looked like it belonged to a functioning adult. Clothes and trash were off the floor. He heard the washing machine and dryer running (did he even had detergent), and he saw a basket of clothes still waiting to be washed, and bags of trash sitting by the door, waiting to be taken out. The carpet had been vacuumed, the tables were free of dust, and the sunlight shined through the window now that it wasn't covered in grime. His apartment hasn't looked this good since the first day he moved in.

He looked inside the kitchen. The sink of clear from the pile of dishes that were perpetually on the counter, and the floors were cleaned. It actually looked like a kitchen, complete with cooked food ready to be eaten. A stack of pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, hash browns (oh God he was going to inhale those), fruit salad, orange juice, and coffee.

"You didn't have to do all this, Teej," Gus said. "This is a buffet. And this place looks great."

"It's fine, I didn't mind. I like doing this sort of thing. It only took me about an hour to clean," he said. "Can you help me carry this stuff to the table?"

They ate in uncomfortable silence, though it was mostly uncomfortable on Gus's end. How were you supposed to react when you wake up to your childhood friend in your apartment, and they've cleaned the whole place _and_ made you breakfast? Damn good breakfast at that.

"So what's been going on with you?" TJ asked. "I haven't seen any of you guys in years."

"Nothing much. Served in the military, lost my leg, got honorably discharged, and here I am," said Gus. "Spending more time drunk than I am sober."

"It was really hard on you, huh?"

Gus nodded. "They never fully prepare you for what you see out there. I was the only one in my troop to make it out of there," he said. "Even then, I lost my leg."

"I'm glad you made it."

"Thanks. Someone has to be."

". . .What do you mean by that?"

Gus shrugged and cut into another pancake. "Sometimes I think I should've died out there with the rest of them. I'm living like I'm dead, anyways."

"I'm glad you're still here," he said. "I can't say what it's like to go through something like that, but have you tried talking about it to someone?"

"I usually get too drunk before that happens," said Gus. "I'm tired of talking about me. What about you?"

"Me? Oh, I just wrote a couple kids books that got really popular," said TJ. "I make enough from that to live off."

"One of us has to have their life together. That's great, man. I didn't figure you to be a writer."

"Me neither. I just did it when I was bored, and someone thought I should send it to an agent, and it took off from there," he said. "I'm actually working on the third one."

"Maybe I'll check it out. It'll give me something to do," said Gus. "But for right now, I'm going to crawl back into bed. Thanks for the breakfast. And cleaning my place."

"No problem, dude. Hey, this is going to sound weird, and feel free to kick me out, but can I join you?"

Gus shrugged. "You've always been weird, Teej."

He stood out of his seat and walked back into his bedroom, with TJ following behind. Gus untangled his blanket, but upon getting a good whiff of them, decided against crawling back into them. He yanked the bedding off and left it in a pile in the corner of his room. After changing his bedding, they climbed in.

"You don't have to act like you're not disgusted with me," Gus mumbled. "You saw how this place looked. It's pathetic."

"I'm not acting, Gus. I'm not disgusted. I remember you kind of being a neat freak, so to fall into something like this, something must've hit you hard," he said. "Have you ever considered that you might be depressed?"

". . ."

"I know it'd been years since we've seen each other, but I still care about you, dude. Look, I'm not going to force you to go to the doctor, but think you should at least think about it. If you ever need someone just to talk to, you can call me. Okay?"

Gus nodded. After that, they dozed off, like many other people on a Sunday. Gus fell in and out of seep, and he put most o the blame on the sudden appearance of his friend. It wasn't that he wasn't happy to see him again; he was. He didn't think he would see any of the old gang even again. He just didn't want them to see him like this. A drunkard vet who lived in garbage.

He woke up once, and saw that the two of them has somehow moved closer together in their sleep. Probably for the warmth. He kept his apartment cool; it gave him reason to stay under the covers.

The last time all six of them were anywhere near each other was the 8th grade. He moved away right before high school, and since then, they lost contact. It was a part of life he supposed. His life called for him to follow in his fathers footsteps and join the military.

He shouldn't have done that. He wasn't made for it.

The next time he woke up, he found himself being held. He couldn't lie and tell himself it wasn't nice to be on the receiving end of such affection. God, he was so starved of it by now, that a simple few hours of cuddling felt long overdue. He blinked, stopping the tears threatening to fall. He dozed off again.

When he woke up again, he was the only one in bed. He listened out for any sound, and heard his closet door shut.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" He heard TJ ask. "I heard the drier stop so I got up and put your clothes away."

"You're being way too nice, TJ. What are you, a maid?"

"Nah, just a friend who cares," he said. "I ordered pizza. It should be here any minute. Do you still like pepperoni and pineapple?"

"Ha, yeah. You still remember that?"

"Yep. I never forget about my friends."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. The two of them stayed in bed, eating pizza. It was one of those lazy days, where there wasn't much that could get them to get out of bed.

"So do you do this sort of thing often?" TJ asked him.

"Do what?"

"Go out drinking, get blackout drunk, bring people back here," he said. "That sort of thing."

"No. I was dragged out by my ol army buddies last night," said Gus. "Bars are overrated. Too noisy. What about you?"

"I don't really like bars, either. I only came into that one last because I was having a bad day," he said. "One of those days where nothing goes right. What a coincidence we ran into each other, huh?"

"Yeah. What a coincidence," said Gus. "I guess after today you'll be heading home."

"I gotta. I need to take care of business. I live a few towns over, so I'm not that far away. But it was nice catching up to you, man. We gotta hang out sometime."

Gus nodded. They finished the rest of their pizza in silence. Once it was all gone, the tossed the trash away, and the sun was beginning to set again. Seeing as how it would be better to drive home in the morning, TJ asked to stay another night, which Gus told him 'duh, dude'.

For the rest of the night, the binged on trashy horror movies that neither of them paid much attention to. For Gus, it was nice just to spend time with someone. How in the world did he get like this? Succumbed to a deep depression that seemed impossible to get out of. While the rest of the world passed him, he could barely get out of bed on most days without help.

Maybe it was time to reach out to someone who could help. A professional. What harm could it do?

When morning came, it came too soon. After a quick breakfast, the two were standing at the door to Gus' apartment, saying their goodbyes before separating again. They exchanged numbers to stay in contact, and promised to meet up again, this time not in some dark sleazy bar.

* * *

 **TJ would make a good house husband. We need more fics with him being a loving and doting house husband. But I'm already writing so many fics.**

 **I dunno who is next.**


	9. Mikey Pt 2

**Honestly I could go for a fic with TJ being asexual and the frustration everyone who's interested faces when he just doesn't respond to their flirting the way they want. It could be a fun time. Personally I headcanon him as being asexual and panromanic, even if I haven't written it myself.**

 **Mikey, in fact, cannot bring himself to just 'leave it alone'. Totally related to the last Mikey chapter. I should rearrange the chapters in this thing. Or nah, I really don't feel like it.**

* * *

It kept bothering him. Seeing his former friend, the one who used to happily lead their group into mischief, on camera, exposing himself for the world to see. (Or to whoever was willing to pay the price.) Mikey clicked onto his profile to see what he could learn.

As it turned out, TJ was going under his middle name, "Jasper", which explained the '-J' at the end of his messages. There were a few 30 second video clips, serving as a preview for those looking around for someone to watch. Aside from the type of service involved, a lot of work was put into the profile. A long description, professional looking layout, nothing gaudy or tacky looking. And the 'send message' icon' under his profile picture.

Should he try to talk to him again? Or would TJ still be angry at him? Mikey decided to wait at least a day, just in case. Give him time to cool down. That made sense.

It wasn't until a few days later that he got an email from that site. It wasn't a personal email, just and ad mentioning that TJ was having another livestream. Of course. They wanted to make sure people came back. But Mikey only wanted to talk to him, not see him in that sort of position again. Well. Maybe he didn't have to watch. Maybe he could just keep it open in another tab and wait until it's over so he'll see? Yeah, that makes sense.

He followed the link provided in the email, and paid the fee to watch. 50 dollars. So far, the screen was blank, except for a timer and some music playing in the background. Some people were already in the chat, talking among themselves.

It took a few more minutes for the screen to come to life. However, it didn't show him right away. It was another person, some guy with a mop of black hair and dark eyes.

"So tonight, I got a little surprise. It's my birthday, and my best friends in the whole world got me a really awesome present," he said. "You guys wanna see?"

The chat exploded in responses.

"Take a look for yourselves."

He pointed the camera at the couch, where TJ sat, but someone had tied him up, binding his hands behind his back, blindfolded, and gag keeping him from speaking. Someone behind the couch, who's face was off camera, was double checking the ropes. Adding insult to injury, there was a decorative bow on his head.

"Isn't this the best present ever?" He said. He sat the camera down and joined them on the couch.

Mikey muted the video and opened another tab. He couldn't make himself what that. He would just have to keep checking in until it was over.

While he waited, he tried distracting himself with a book, periodically clicking over to the tab with the livestream. It was hard not to worry, though, seeing his friend tied up, gagged, and blindfolded like that. He knew it had to be an act, or at least he hoped it was, but a part of him couldn't help but worry. What if it wasn't staged? Those ropes looked pretty tight. And that would be really convincing acting if it was fake. . .

It lasted a little over two hours until the ropes were removed. The other two had left, leaving TJ alone, on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. He hadn't end the livestream yet, inside, he was typing away at the computer looking somewhat bored. It took Mikey a minute to realize that he must be talking to people in the chat. If there was a time to get his attention, it had to be now.

Going back to his profile, he clicked on the message icon. What should he say? An apology made the most sense. . .

 _:Hello? I don't know if you even remember me, but I want to say I'm sorry._

There. That should do it. Short and simple. He watched for any sort of reaction, but there was none. TJ still kept that bored and tired expression. Even when he got the notification of a response.

 _:It's you. -J_

 _:What do you want? -J_

 _:I just wanted to apologize for the last time. I didn't mean to make you mad._

 _:And? -J_

 _:And?_

 _: Omg And what else do you want? People don't talk on this site unless they want something, so what do you want? -J_

 _:I just want to talk._

 _:Bullshit. C'mon, man. I could be talking to a customer right now, get to the point. -J_

Crap. He had to think of something fast before this conversation ended. Well, he's expecting something. Maybe he could get him to meet up somewhere? That would be incredibly dishonest, but how else was he going to get to see him?

 _:Okay, I want to meet up with you. Is that okay?_

 _:Fine. Where and what time? I'm free on Saturday until 3 pm. -J_

They scheduled to meet up in the next city over at a cafe the next day. How was he going to respond to seeing him? Would he bail as soon as he recognized him? All he could do was wait and see.

#

When Saturday came, Mikey sat outside the cafe, with a cup of coffee in his hands. He had told TJ what he would be wearing so he could spot him out of the crowd, and now he was nervously looking up every time someone walked around the corner.

How would he even start the conversation? "Hey, I saw you fucking on camera, what's up with that?" That wouldn't go over well. Just getting TJ to talk to him would be an accomplishment.

"SoftHeart92."

"Huh?"

Mikey looked up and there he was. Wearing a dark fitted hoodie and dark red pants, TJ stood in front of his table. He looked tired, with bags under his eyes and a slumped posture.

"Are you SoftHeart92?" He asked. Oh, right. His username.

"Y-yeah, that's me," said Mikey.

"I'm not wasting any time so lets get right to the point," he said as he sat down. "What are you buying?"

"Buying?"

"Jesus Christ, don't play stupid. You were on a goddamn porn stream site, you know what I'm talking about."

"I'm not trying to buy anything from you, TJ."

It was saying his name that made him look up with a confused expression. Shit. Well, there's not turning back now. TJ looked at him suspiciously.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"You don't recognize me? I recognized you," Mikey said. "It's me, Mikey."

". . .Shit."

#

Mikey watched him completely into a few sandwiches and cookies he ordered. It was almost as if he hadn't eaten in days, and was taking in as much as he can at this chance, increasing Mikey's worry about him.

"What?" TJ snapped when he caught Mikey staring.

"Nothing, nothing," He said. "So uh, you livestream."

"Uh-huh."

"Can I ask why?' TJ looked up. "I mean, it was kind of a surprise to see you, you know, doing _that_ of all things."

"I already told you. Gotta pay for art school somehow," he said.

"But why do this? Won't your parents help you pay for it?"

"Not everyone can ask their parents for that, Mikey." Okay, a touchy subject. Mikey knew he shouldn't poke at that and use another route for answers. "Do you know how much I can make in one night? More than I'd make at some fast food place in weeks."

"But it doesn't make you uncomfortable, exposing yourself like that?"

"Nope," said TJ. "Shouldn't I be asking you why you were on that site?"

"My friends idea of a birthday present was paying for me to watch," Mikey explained. "I recognized you right away."

TJ sighed. "So are you buying anything from me or not?"

"No, TJ, I'm just worried about you. I mean, look at you! You look like a mess, and you don't look happy at all," he said. "I know we haven't seen each other in years, but I like to think I know you, at least a little bit, and you can't convince me that this is something you want to do."

"It's a good thing I don't care about convincing you of anything," TJ snapped.

"TJ-"

"People like you always have something to say about it. Like you know me so damn well to know that I _really_ want."

"That's not what I meant-"

"Then what did you mean, Mikey? That the last time you saw me I was the spitting image of the all american boy, and that you can't stand the thought of me turning into _this?_ Things change."

"I know things change, TJ. I just want to help you," said Mikey.

"I don't want your help and I don't need your help, Mikey. I'm doing just fucking fine." TJ look down the street at the passing cars, clearly looking or a particular one. A rather expensive looking black car pulled up next to them.

"TJ-"

"No. Stay the hell away from me, Mikey. We never met here. In fact, you never saw me livestream either," TJ said as he stood up. "Just forget everything and go back to your life."

Mikey watched him climb into the passenger seat. For a moment, he was able to get a glance at the driver. Whoever he was, he was dressed in an expensive looking suit. Once the door was shut, the tinted window made it impossible for him to see it inside. The car drove off, and like that, TJ was gone.

Mikey sighed. That could've gone a lot better.

* * *

 **Will there be a part 3? Who knows, it's not like I have this fleshed out or anything. Please Review!**


	10. Menlo

**Did someone ask for sadness? Because that's what we're getting today.**

 **The lack of Menlo/TJ is distressing. Usually fandoms go crazy over the 'old friends who split up ending up together' thing. Oh well.**

* * *

TJ imagined that after today that there would be at last one person to stop whoever wanted to come up here.

He looked down at the street and sidewalk below. Was it six or seven stories off the ground? He didn't know. Either way, it would do the job and do it well. He sighed and rubbed his arms. It was colder up here than he expected.

A small crowd was gathering on the street below. In hindsight he should've just jumped instead of wasting time taking in the view. But then again that was all he ever did, so what's the difference now? Taking up space, taking up time, taking up _air_ that could've been used by someone who was worth a damn.

So.

This was it.

. . .

He should've done this a night. Less people who would see him. Oh well. Sunset was close enough. Shouldn't think about it much and just take the step forward. Get it over with.

. . .

. . .

. . .

"TJ?"

Too lost in his own mind, TJ didn't hear the door to the roof open or the rush of footsteps coming towards him. Behind him, Menlo approached, out of breath and barely holding himself up.

"Hey, Menlo," TJ said. He didn't bother looking back. who could look away from this. . .beautiful, beautiful sight? It was _fucking_ gorgeous. "What's up?"

"'What's up'? Um, nothing much I guess? What are you doing up here, TJ?" Menlo asked.

'What's it look like? I'm gonna jump. Obviously," he said. "Or walk over. Or be pushed by the wind. Which ever."

"Oh."

 _Oh._ TJ scoffed. He heard Menlo's slow footsteps as he came closer, as if any wrong move of his would push him over.

"But why?"

TJ shrugged and looked down. "It's better than living. Hitting the concrete is gonna hurt a lot less than waking up everyday. Just _wham_ and it's over. In an instant."

Menlo didn't know what to say to that. His usual, logical way of approaching things, wouldn't do much here, in this tense, emotion fill situation. He just happened to be walking through the city when he spotted TJ on the roof.

"Do you know how much it hurts to wake up everyday? Having to march into a school without anyone there to look forward to seeing but plenty of people ready to shred what little of a reputation part as soon as they can latch their ugly little hands on it, especially the ones that you thought would never take part in it. Put that on top on a non existent sense of self-worth and a depleted sense of self-preservation, along with hatred for yourself that grows everyday. There's barely enough energy for me to get out of bed everyday, because what's the point? Put it all together and what does that get you? One suicidal guy who should've offed himself months ago.

"I'm doing everyone a favor, Menlo. This is the only thing I've been able to get right in years."

". . .Did you know that those who survive jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge say that while falling, they realized that suicide wasn't the answer?" Menlo said. "What if you realize halfway down that you want to change your mind? Concrete is a lot harder than water."

TJ shrugged. "Just go home, Menlo."

"You know I can't do that," Menlo said. "I'm not really good at this. But I don't think you should jump. There's so much to live for."

"When I was little I thought that people only died because they did what they needed to do in life, whether or not they did what they wanted to do. I think I did what ever I was supposed to do a long time ago and that i cheated somehow, and I'm not supposed to be alive."

"I think you're supposed to be. Remember my last birthday? I would've spent the day alone if you hadn't kept your promise for all these years. I might not have said it then, but I always appreciated how you keep promises," said Menlo.

TJ stayed silent, but also stayed on the roof.

"I was walking by on my way to a stationary store. They had new Moleskines in and I wanted to get one. That sounds nerdy beyond all belief, I know, but maybe I was meant to see you up here and talk you down," he said. "If you weren't up here, what would you be doing?"

TJ shrugged.

"I'm so tired, Menlo."

"I know."

"It hurts to be alive."

"I know."

"I want to die."

"I know," said Menlo. "Please come down? If not for yourself, then for me? You promised you'd always be there on my birthday."

Menlo watched, tense, ready to reach out and grab him if he needed to. But he didn't. TJ stepped off the edge of the roof, off the edge of his death, to the relief of all those looking from the sidewalk below. They walked back into the building and took the elevator down wordlessly.

The moment they stepped outside, TJ was pulled aside by a few police officers, though by the look on his face, it looked like he expected it. A few words were exchanged before he was lead to a waiting ambulance. His parents probably had no idea what's been happening, but would be relieved that their son was still alive.

* * *

 **I'm too lazy to write this in one part. I'll make a part 2 at some point.**

 **Please review.**


	11. Menlo pt 2

Of Course I'm still doing one shots. This is sort of a place where I drop off stories where I don't think could stand on their own as individually published stories. TBH I'm thinking of doing some more that aren't smut related.

* * *

Menlo looked from his seat across the classroom. While most of the students were taking notes, or at least pretending to, TJ just looked down at his desk blankly, making no effort to pay attention in class. The teacher really didn't care if his students took notes or not, as long as you stayed quiet, making it easy for him to not get in trouble.

The two of them had two more classes together, and in each other them, Menlo saw him acting the same way, making no effort to pay attention, staring blankly at his desk or straight ahead. Menlo didn't think he was entirely there mentally.

Have had a friendship with him over a decade ago was enough to make Menlo feel like he should reach out to him and ask what was wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to actually do so. Menlo was no stranger to how he was treated within the school. Long ago labelled an outcast, a loser, a freak, for some reason or another, Menlo didn't know the specifics. But that just came with high school, right? Nothing to worry about.

Nothing at all.

..

The smell of bleach. Menlo was one for tidiness and order, but the sterile environment of the mental hospital was nearly oppressive the second he entered the building. But he wasn't going to leave. He made a promise to be here, and if TJ could keep his promises, then he could, too.

He sat in the meeting room, waiting for the door on the opposite side to open. Finding a day to get out here and visit was hard enough, and he wasn't going to miss out.

Eventually the door did open, and TJ came through, followed closely by an orderly. He was dressed in gray sweats, and didn't look too happy to be there.

'But at least he's still alive,' Menlo thought.

"Hey, Menlo," TJ mumbled as he sat at the table.

"Hello, TJ. H-How are you feeling?" Menlo asked.

TJ shrugged. "I don't want to talk about how I'm feeling. I don't feel anything," he said. "It's an improvement from feeling like offing myself, I guess."

"So. . .what's it like in here?"

"The whole place smells like bleach. . .I can't tell if the doctors and nurses are being genuinely nice or if they feel forced to. They won't let you touch anything they think you could hurt yourself with, so I couldn't write you back," he said. "I'm still tired. The doctors don't believe me when I tell them those pills don't work on me."

"It's their job to try."

"I know. It's kinda pointless if you ask me," he said. "I almost can't look my parents in the eye. Their only son, in a crazy house. They should do themselves a favor and forget about me in here."

"They're your parents, TJ. Unless you murder someone they're always going to be there for you," said Menlo.

"Mmm. . ."

Silence settled between them. What else was there to talk about?

"Thanks for visiting me," said TJ.

"Of course. You're my friend," said Menlo. "I know it took me forever to visit, but I did try to get here sooner."

"They didn't want any visitors except immediate family anyways," TJ said. "Something about making sure I was stable enough."

"It's not boring in here, is it? They have to have something in here to keep you busy."

"They have a makeshift school we're required to go to if you're under 18. Probably so we don't get behind in school. I don't bother fighting over the remote in the commons room," he said. "I'm reading most of the time."

"That's good. Maybe I could bring you a few books," said Menlo.

"That'd be great."

"I'm really glad you're still alive, TJ. I can't say I know what you're going through, but I can say I'm happy you didn't jump," Menlo said. "If I didn't show up that day, would you really have jumped?"

TJ nodded. "Yeah. I left a note on my bed and everything. I was ready."

"Do you still feel like that?"

He shrugged. "How's school?"

"School's school. Tests, reports, homework, same old, same old," Menlo said.

"That's not really what I'm asking about, Menlo. We both know what I'm talking about," TJ said with a half laugh.

Menlo did. It was on the news that night about his suicide attempt, and everyone was talking about it, especially at school. He heard the conversations about it, words like 'psycho', 'nutcase', and 'freak' being tossed around, those words being some of the more kinder words. How anyone could talk about someone like that after a suicide attempt of all things, Menlo didn't understand.

"They all know. It's all they would talk about for days," said Menlo. "It doesn't take that much of an imagination to think of what they were saying."

"Figures."

"I didn't think people could be that mean. No one deserves to go to a school full of people like that. When you get out of here, you should opt for a GED instead of going back to that place."

"My parents want me to be home schooled when I get out of here. We haven't decided yet," he said. "The doctor says I should focus on short term goals for a while."

"Which ever you choose, know you've got at least one friend by your side, okay? I'll try to visit more often, it sounds boring in here," said Menlo. "Try and stay positive, okay? There are people who are happy you're still here, including me."

"I'll try."

Menlo nodded. That was all he could ask for. The two of them said their goodbyes before splitting off.

...

His perfect record allowed him access to student records that other students could dream of. Menlo was usually adamant about maintaining a professional attitude about that privilege, having some office experience to put on his resume. But if there was any time for him to strongly consider using this to his advantage, now would be it.

In front of him were the permanent records of Ashley Spinelli, Vince LaSalle, Gus Griswold, Gretchen Grundler, and Mikey Blumberg, the five people that he personally held responsible for this entire situation. All it would take is a few marks, maybe rewriting a page or two, and their post high school plans would be ruined.

If he as found out, he could get in trouble, maybe even be expelled, but wasn't it worth it? After what they did? They deserved it. Besides, this was the least he could do. For a friend.

Menlo grabbed one of the pens sitting in a coffee mug, and opened the first file.


	12. Spinelli again

These two have good chemistry. I'd rather them stay super close friends. Let TJ be asexual.

I need to work on Youthful Rebellion.

* * *

"She was totally hitting on you."

"What? No way."

"She was! She was shameless about it, too! You mean you didn't notice her trying to show off her tits to you?"

On this rainy sunday afternoon, Spinelli settled over across the street, in TJ's house. The two of them were holed up in his living room, watching some trashy horror movie. They didn't pay it much attention in favor of the lighthearted conversation they were having. The conversation about the pool party the day before at Ashley A.'s house. Spinelli wasn't one to go to any of their parties, but seeing the frustration on the blonde Ashley's face as she tried her hardest to flirt with TJ, only to be met with no results. . . .

It was worth it.

"I mean, yeah, but she was wearing a bikini, I didn't think she could help it," said TJ. "Why would she do that on purpose?"

"Because she wants your dick, dude," said Spinelli. "She wants it bad."

"Like you did?"

"Yeah, except I actually got it."

The two of them shared a small laugh. Spinelli readjusted her position. The two of them laid on the couch, with him on his back and her laying on top of him. Being able to just cuddle with a dude with no sexual undertones was something she appreciated, and goddamn was she starved for just being held.

"So are you telling me you don't notice any of the chicks in school hitting on you?" Spinelli asked. "Because there's a lot."

"I notice a little bit, I just don't pay it a lot of attention. I'm just not interested in that sort of thing, remember?" He said. "Even you had to be really direct about it."

"Right. It was hot as fuck that day and I was sick of you not catching on," she said. "You think you're ever gonna come out and tell everyone you're ace?"

"I dunno. Is it that big of a deal?"

"To me? Nah. I still get eaten out either way, so. . .but I do wanna see the disappointment in all those girls faces," said Spinelli. "There's going to be a collective groan of disappointment, I just know it."

"Some of the guys already think I'm gay."

"Ha, really? How'd that happen?"

"They were talking about girls in the locker room, you know, regular locker room talk junk, and some of them noticed me not really adding anything to the conversation, I guess? They wanted me to say something, and I said something like why would they put that much effort in just for sex, is it really that big of a deal? Then they asked me if I was gay. I neither confirmed nor denied it, I just left. And I'm pretty sure at least half of them think I'm gay. I don't really care enough to correct them."

Spinelli couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Christ. The guys are confused why you aren't losing your mind over every chick with a big enough chest and the girls are confused as to why none of their techniques are working on you. You're a real mystery, Teej."

"Is it really that many girls?" He asked.

"Yeah! You look good, dude! Real handsome," she said. "You got those freckles, you're genuinely sweet, nice to everyone, things girls like. Ashley A. likes ya, obviously. Ashley B. does, too. Clarissa, Tammy, Miranda, Lucille, just to name a few. They all think you're a sweetie. A real teddy bear."

"Ah. Well, sorry to disappoint them, I guess," said TJ. "I'm rather be with you. We got a nice thing going here."

"We do! We're already best friends, and I'm super okay with not fucking if you don't want to."

"I don't mind it if you really need it, just don't expect me to to be the one to initiate things," he said. "You really think it'll be a big deal?" Spinelli nodded. "I'm gonna post it on facebook. We'll see what it's like at school tomorrow."

He felt around the floor for his phone. After unlocking it, he typed out a simple post telling everyone about him being asexual, and tossed the phone aside. There. Whatever happens tomorrow, he would deal with it then.


	13. A lil bit of hurt

Something was telling Robert to go home early.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but something kept his hand on his phone, and his phones volume was up. He text his husband multiple times through the morning and afternoon, getting messages back from TJ saying that he was fine and asking what he wanted for dinner. Without a concrete reason, he stayed at work, looking over contracts and setting up meetings.

But once it was time to go, he walked just a little faster to his car, and drove a little faster to get home. Pulling into the driveway, the house itself looked fine.

"At least it's not on fire," he said as he unlocked the front door.

Walking into the house, everything seemed normal. The house was perfectly clean, not a single peck of dust to be found. But no footsteps of TJ coming down the hall to greet him, something that he's gotten used to. Robert left his suitcase and jacket next and on the side of the stair railing before heading into the kitchen.

Usually the kitchen looked like a picture straight out of a magazine, but now the counters were covered in spilled ingredients, and the sink was on. Robert walked over to turn it off, but when he turned around the island, he found his husband. Out cold on the kitchen floor, TJ laid too still for Robert's tastes.

With his panic rising, Robert knelled down and turn his husband over. He checked his pulse, and was slightly calmed when he felt a pulse. He tried waking him on his own, but when it was clear that wasn't going to work, he dialed 911.

The ambulance didn't arrive soon enough in Robert's opinion. They could've been there 30 seconds after he called, voice shaking, and it still wouldn't have been soon enough. He paced back and forth in the waiting room, fidgeting, looking at every person who passed by hoping that one would be a doctor tell him what was going on with his husband. If he could, he would've rode in the ambulance, but there wasn't any room. Instead, he was brought to the hospital by his driver. His anxiety left him trembling and in no shape to drive.

"Robert Kingsman?"

Robert looking up and saw a doctor approach.

"Yes?"

"I'm the doctor working on your husband. By the looks of it, you've been worried sick about him. He's stable now, and we expect him to make a fully recovery, but once he wakes up I need to have a conversation with him about some important matters."

"So what's wroong with him?"

"It took a while to figure out, but after a battery of tests, we found the problem. It's his liver, Mr. Kingsman. As it turns out, he has Wilson's disease. Essentially, his body can't process copper, causing it to build up in the body, which lead to you finding him passed out. The damage is usually focused on the liver and brain, but from what we've seen, his brain his fine, but there is some damage done to his liver. Some of it can be repaired but some can't. He'll have to take medication from here on out, but it's a very manageable disease, Mr. Kingsman. We want to keep him here to monitor him for a few days, but we expect him to make a full recovery."

#

Robert sat next to the hospital bed, stroking his husbands messy chestnut hair. He waited hoping that each passing second would be the one TJ would wake up. The doctor said he should wake up any minute now, as he wasn't in a coma or anything. Robert bounced his legs, patience running thin.

The doctor reassured him that as long as he took medication that he could live life without much hassle. Still, this impromptu rush to the hospital rattled his nerves.

The two of them kept a close eye on their health, working out and eating healthy. The men in Robert's family had history of diabetes, and the occasional case of cancer. TJ had mentioned that high blood pressure and heart issues were common on his fathers side of the family, his father having suffered a minor heart attack a few years ago. Both of them wanted to stay on top of their health because of those reasons, and their doctors said they couldn't be healthier at their last checkups.

"Bobby?" Robert blinked and looked up at his husbands sleepy eyes. "Whats the matter. . .?"

"What's the matter? I thought you were dying, that's the matter!" Robert pulled him into a hug, loosening his grip with TJ hissed in pain. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"A little bit. I feel sore. . ."

"Well, I did find you face down in the kitchen. I wouldn't be surprised if you had a bruise or two," Robert said. "The doctor said you have something called Wilson's disease. He can explain it better, but you can't process copper. You'll have to take meds."

"Mm. . .I'm sorry I worried you."

"Even in a hospital bed, you're still worried about me," Robert mumbled.

There was a quick knock at the door before the doctor walked in.

"It's good to see you're awake, Mr. Detweiler. You gave us quite the scare," he said. "I'll write this down so you won't forget, but as it turns out, you have Wilson's disease. Your body cannot properly process copper, so it builds up in your body. Luckily the damage done is only mild, but you'll have to take medication from here on out. Plus there's a short list of foods you should limit eating, but as long as you do this, you'll be able to live a normal life.

"Also, because Wilson's is a genetic disease, if you have any siblings, you should tell them to be screened for it as well, just to be safe. We want to keep you here for a few days to monitor you, but you should be feeling better by tomorrow.

#

After a few days, TJ was released from the hospital and given a prescription to take. Even after he was given an all clear with an advisement to take things easy for a few more days, Robert still kept a close eye on him.

A 'close eye' meaning 'keep your husband in bed for about a week'.

"Bobby, I'm fine! You don't have to do this!" TJ complained. Robert buried him under a pile of soft blankets and pillows.

"Yeah, I do. You always take care of me. Let me take care of you for once." Robert brought over a tray of breakfast foods. "The doctor said to take it easy."

"Take it easy, not take bed rest," TJ complained.

"Just take it. For me? It'll make me feel better," Robert said. "I was worried when I found you passed out."

". . .Okay. If it makes you feel better."

Robert sat on the edge of their large bed, feeling him bites of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. He always told himself never to forget that the daily work around the house and errands the TJ handled day in and day out was nothing to scoff at, but doing them for himself gave him a new respect for what it took to be a house husband.

After breakfast, Robert crawled into bed with him. His meetings and paperwork could wait, his husband need his attention. Robert pulled him close and hugged him, kissing his forehead. He watched as TJ drifted off to sleep. They haven't been spending much time together lately. Maybe a vacation was due. . .


	14. Burn

**The first part of this one is rushed because I just want to get to the hurt, okay? More details to come in part two**

* * *

#

Expecting nothing more than a surprised scream, only for him to realize it wasn't hurting him. They didn't know that they missed a crucial step. The fire erupted on his hand, and he screamed, shaking his hand to put it out, but it continued to spread to the sleeve of his jacket and outward. He continued to scream, turning from one of shock to one of pain and fear as the fire continued to engulf him.

Vince and Spinelli, were stunned into paralysis. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was supposed to be a prank, not this. Their friend screamed in agony as he panicked. So they did the only thing they thought of.

They ran.

#

The smoke set off the fire alarm, and Gus was the one who remembered where the fire extinguisher was and brought it back. As it turned out, remembering 'stop, drop, and roll' was a lot harder when you were actually on fire. Once the fire was out, TJ's clothes were scorched, and his skin was reddened. The students were rushed out once the teachers came in.

After that, things were a blur. An ambulance came, TJ was taken away, and Vince and Spinelli were nowhere to be found.

#

Agony.

TJ wanted to curl into a ball until the agonizing pain shooting through his body passed, but the slightest movement amplified the pain, leaving him stuck in the position in woke up in.

Where ever he was, he could tell with his closed eyes that it was bright. Something was beeping nearby. Something was wrapped around his face and head and arms and legs. . .

What was going on?

"TJ? C'mon, sweetheart, please wake up. . ."

That was his mom. Why did she sound so worried? He was know for getting into messes but his mom never sounded this worried about him. How did he even get here?

. . .

Fire. Surrounded by growing fire, burning away at his clothes and scorching him skin, making him scream until his throat was sore and he couldn't scream anymore.

It hurt just like he was hurting now.

He descended into panic, moving as much as his binded arms and legs would allow are he attempted to put out the fire that flashed through his mind.

Nurses and doctors had to work to restrain him to stop him moving and worsening his already serious injuries. He didn't need more gashes or more bleeding. In the end, they used a sedative to calm him and force him to sleep.

#

They were in the trouble of their lives.

Sitting in the prinicpals office, with their parents, Principal Prickly, and a few police officers, any thought of lying about what happened was out the window. Spinelli and Vince knew that, even if they tried to lie, there were witnesses, and the unwritten rule of not snitching fell apart against something like this.

Like setting your friend on fire.

"Would the two of you mind explaining exactly what happened?"

". . .It's april fools day, and we wanted to play a prank on TJ, since he's been playing them on us all day."

"Then we remembered the trick the science guy showed us yesterday. He poured something on his skin and lit it on fire, but it didn't hurt him. We didn't know you had to put vaseline on your skin first."

"We thought it would just surprise him, but it wouldn't hurt. We didn't know that would happen."

"So instead of getting help, the two of you ran, leaving him on fire," said one of the officers taking notes. The two of them only nodded. The shame they felt, the shame their parents felt, weighed heavy on their shoulders.

There was no trying to hide anything. Any sort of lying would just get them in more trouble. There was no defending what they did.

The ride home was filled with ruthless scolding from their parents, and it only intensified once they got home. To say they were grounded was a severe understatement.

#

As it turned out, he was out cold for weeks. His parents didn't tell him how long, and neither did the doctor, but remembering the day. . .it happened, and comparing it to dates the nurse mentioned, he got a rough idea of how long it was.

When he woke up, it was to a flurry of coughs. His parents were at his side in seconds, trying to get him to drink some water to help, but there wasn't any time between coughs to take a sip. His lungs, throat, and nose burned with each hack and cough.

The nurses came rushing in as his coughing got louder, and the wheezing cam right after. Spots of blood were splatted on his bed sheets, and tears rolled down hs face as they worked to relieve his pain.

He was given a diagnosis of bronchitis.

#

While the nurse prepared his change of bandages, TJ was given a chance to see what was off his skin, at least on his left arm. His middle and index was were missing. The rest of his skin was red, bleeding, and peeling. The open air stung his raw flesh, even with the morphine being pumped into him. He didn't dare try to make a fist.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. This should make it feel better," the nurse said. Carefully, she applied a thick ointment on his arm before wrapping it back up. TJ cried out in pain. That was just one arm. He still had another arm to go. And his legs. And torso. "You did great. After this, I'll see if I can have them bring up some ice cream, since you're being such a trooper about this."

He powered through the pain of changing his bandages. The nurse unwrapped the bandages around the left side of his face. Even with his left eye uncovered, his vision was still limited to his right eye. Blinded in that one, the doctor told him. He hadn't gotten used to it; every time his bandages were changed it was still a little surprise he couldn't see out of it. But he would have plenty of time to adjust. This hospital room was going to be his home for a while.

#

They didn't know what to expect when stepping into their friends hospital room. There was still guilt there, even though they, Gretchen, Gus, and Mikey, weren't responsible for his situation. They didn't know what to expect. How would he look? Would he even be awake? Their parents stood closeby, talking to TJ's parents while they were to go in and spend some time with their friend.

Gus, surprisingly, was the one to step inside the room first.

"Hey, Teej," Gus said. Gretchen and Mikey followed close behind. TJ had the room to himself. The room was filled with bouquets, balloons, and stuffed animals, all with some variation of 'get well soon' on them. TJ was still in bed, wrapped in bandages, including half his face.

"Hey guys! How's it going?" TJ asked. His cheerfulness didn't match. it didn't match the scratchiness in his voice, or the bandages he was wrapped in, or the tubes and wires connected to him.

"Pretty good, all things considered," said Gretchen. "How are you feeling?"

"I've had better days, haha," he joked. "Where's Vince and Spinelli?"

"They said they would meet us here, but they haven't shown up," said Gus.

"Oh."

"You've got a lot of presents here. Where are they from?"

"Family, neighbors, some from the nurses, some from complete strangers who heard about what happened on the news," he said. "There's even people donating to help my parents pay the hospital bills. Everyones really nice."

Trying to make small talk with the elephant in the room was hard, but the three of them pushed through. Their friend needed it.

TJ was thankful they came.

#

"You two need to go see him."

The second he spotted Spinelli and Vince on the playground the next week, Gus marched straight up to the two of them. They turned to him.

"We saw him this weekend. The way he talked to us, he acts like nothing is wrong, like he isn't in a hospital bed wrapped in bandages like a mummy, like he isn't attached to a dozen machines, like he's not in pain _,"_ Gus said, his voice cracked. "But it's clear he is. He can barely move. When they changed his bandages. . . .his skin. . .it's horrible, guys. I've seen what severe burns look like because my dad isn't shy about letting me know what war is like. His skin looks like one of those pictures. Stopping by is the least you two can do."

With that, he walked into the school. He couldn't look the two of them in the eye. But they knew he was right.

"Did he really look that bad?" Spinelli asked. Gretchen and Mikey nodded.

"He said he's going to have to stay there for a few months to heal," said Gretchen. "They don't want to let him leave too soon and risk infection."

"He probably hates us," said Vince.

"You won't know unless you go see him," Gretchen said. "It goes without saying that you owe him an apology, at the very least."

#

Being awake was easier than being asleep, TJ quickly learned. The near constant nightmares of being in or on fire only let him get a few hours of sleep at a time. At least when he was awake he could distract himself with TV and. . .well, not much else. He couldn't use his wrapped up hands to play any games or anything.

That's why he was so happy when his friends showed up to keep him company. Well, three of them. Vince and Spinelli hadn't made an appearance, but some was better than none, right? He appreciated his parents and Becky but he was a kid, and he wanted to talk to other kids. Even TV got boring fast.

But those nightmares. They left him sitting up in his hospital bed with a racing heartbeat, trying to calm down and reminding himself that he isn't on fire anymore. It was always hard to go back to sleep after that.

#

The nurses took a liking to him. It took a special cold-hearted person to not at least be nice to the 10 year old burn patient in room 22. Some of the nurses had kids themselves, making seeing someone that young wrapped up and attached to so many machines even more heartbreaking.

But even with the pain he must've been going through, once he was awake, he chatted up whoever it was that came to check up on him, or change his bandages, or bring his food. They learned he was quite friendly with everyone, even trying to cheer them up if they were having a bad day.

"A real charmer, that one is," one of the nurses commented. How someone could put him in this situation, they couldn't fathom.

"He's a trooper."

A few of them were guilty of sneaking him sweets.

#

Skin grafts, a common method for helping large burn areas heal, weren't an option, TJ's doctors learned soon enough. With such a large percentage of his body burnt, there wasn't much left untouched or large enough to do any good. That only meant more time in the hospital, and discussions about potential reconstruction surgeries in the future between his parents and the doctors.

While they talked, TJ was finally allowed to see what happened to his face. His parents had been reluctant on letting him see his face, and he guessed he could understand why, but he was going to see at some point.

The left side of his face was a mixture of misshapen healing skin and scars. Any attempt at any sort of expression strained his skin causing pain. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, but it's still pretty bad, he admitted to himself. He sat down the hand mirror he was given.

He looked like a freak. A mutant. A mess of thickening, warped, red, and scarring skin on half his face. How was he supposed to go outside looking like this? A monster.

#

 _They had a special visitor come to their class that day. The entire fourth grade class was taken out to the playground, simply because it had the space they needed. TJ was absent for the day, so he was going to miss out on the self proclaimed 'scientific magicians'._

 _His first trick was 'accidentally._ _' setting his hand on fire. The students were shocked, but after acting afraid, laughed it off as one of his tricks that was coming along._

To be honest, the whole thing was forgettable until April fools rolled in. TJ's favorite holiday. No one was safe from the pranks he laid out. He didn't even try to act like he wasn't the one who set those pranks up.

 _#_

They tried to save his arm.

It was already badly burned, not quite as badly as his hands and fingers, as two of fingers needed to be removed when he arrived, but still pretty damaged. The doctors thought his arm, though damaged, was still able to be saved.

Things were going well, until one day when the nurse was changing his bandages gasped and called the doctor in. Gangrene had settled in. There was no other choice but to remove his lower arm before the necrosis spread further.

#

Their parents wanted them to understand the ramifications of what they did. Vince and Spinelli were already playing to visit TJ, (or so they claimed) but their parents were going to make sure that they got there and went into the room. Right now, their parents were talking to TJ's parents, and they paced just outside of his room.

All they needed to do was go inside and see him. He'll be in the bed, maybe watching TV, or reading, and then they'll walk in, and

. . .

They wouldn't know until they went in.

"C'mon, let's get this over with," Spinelli said. "We need to see him. Plus our parents are going to be pissed if they know we haven't gone in yet."

Vince agreed. They took a deep breath, and stepped inside the hospital room. It was filled with stuffed animals and other gifts with ribbons that read 'get well soon'. And there he was. Resting in the hospital bed, wrapped in thick bandages was TJ. That hospital bed made him look so small.

It really has been a long time since they saw him.

". . H-hey, Teej. How's it going?" Spinelli asked.

Silence.

"We're sorry we haven't come sooner."

Silence.

"So. . .um. . .you've got a lot of presents here. Who else have visited?"

More silence.

They stood, unsure of what to do under their friends (could they even be considered friends after this?) gaze. All TJ could really do was stare at them. He wanted them to visit after weeks and weeks of Gus, Gretchen, and Mikey being the only three of their group to stop in. Other students had visited, like Hustler Kid, the Pale Kids, even King Bob and the Ashley's had stopped by, if only for a few moments to wish him well. He knew that seeing someone in his condition wasn't easy, but he thought that when that person was their friend, they'd power through.

But now that they were here. . .

"Why?" He finally asked. "Why'd you light me on fire?"

". . .It was supposed to be a prank. The day you didn't come, there was a guy who came in and showed us a bunch of science tricks, and one of them was lighting his hand on fire."

"It didn't hurt him, so we thought, you know, on April fools day, it'd be a funny prank. We didn't know he put something on his skin first that stopped it from burning."

"All of this, it wasn't supposed to happen. It was an accident, we swear."

. . .

"Can you guys leave?" TJ asked. "I really want to be alone right now."

". .Y-you want us to leave?" Vince asked.

"Yeah. Just get out of here."

"But Teej-."

"LEAVE! GET OUT! I DON'T WANT YOU HERE, GET OUT!"

His shouting got the attention of their parents and nurses. They were lead away while his parents and nurses tried to calm him down. Their own parents, on the drive home, asked them what on Earth they could have done to make their friend scream like that. They told them the truth, only getting a head shake and silence.


	15. The Proposal

God I love TJ/King Bob so much. We need more of it. I'm the only one writing it. It's lonely sometimes.

* * *

Their usually Sunday evening was reserved for a large dinner, eaten in their ornate dining room. Robert and TJ barely had a chance to actually use the room, so it was their way of not letting it gather dust. But as the food was in front of them, steaming hot and ready to be eaten, complete with candles, neither of them were focused on that. Rather, their eyes were on the small square box that Robert had opened and sat in front of TJ.

The outside of the box was black, while the inside was lined with red silk. Resting inside was a chain necklace with a medium sized heart lock charm. The chain was cleanly polished silver, while the charm was a deep red, with small gems embedded around the edges. It was obviously very expensive; everything Robert got him tended to not cost less than a thousand dollars, even for the most simplest things.

"Are you serious?" TJ asked him.

Robert nodded. "Completely."

TJ continued to look at the box. The dimly lit room added to the atmosphere. Being given a collar, what they were discussing, how quiet it was. . .

"You can say no, I won't be mad or anything," Robert insisted. "It's just that you give me so much control over things, both in and out the bedroom. Were already kinky as hell."

"So you decided to buy me a collar."

"It's not true collar. Just a collar of consideration."

"What's the difference?" TJ asked.

"A collar of consideration is like a friendship ring, like to see if you like it," Robert said.

"You mean if _you_ like it."

"Nope, it's all on you. This is completely built on trust. You can take it off the moment you don't trust me," he said. "It's you trusting me enough to give me that much control."

"Mm. . ."

"You don't have to decide now. This is kind of out of nowhere," Robert admitted.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to do some thinking about this," TJ said. He closed the black box and placed it to the side. "I was just trying to eat and get some kinky shit thrown in my face."

"Oh my God."

#

Midday. Robert was at work, probably going on lunch break by now, TJ figured, while he finished putting the frosting on a freshly baked cake. He was getting good at this, he thought. Damn thing looked decent. Even the little frosted roses looked nice.

But that damn necklace. Or collar, or whatever Robert wanted to call it. That's been stuck on his mind since last night. He didn't know what Robert did with it after dinner, but Robert wasn't going to drop it, TJ knew that much.

"Probably should've seen it coming," he thought.

Robert's always been about controlling and dominating, real kinky stuff. It made it hard to find someone willing to hand over that much power to him. The two of them worked together because TJ liked doting him so much and Robert liked spoiling him.

 _"You're the best housewife a guy could ask for," Robert told him jokingly one time._

Christ.

But a collar of all things?

He covered the cake and washed his hands before heading into the living room with his laptop. There had to be something about this he could look up.

. . .

"Goddammit, Robert."

There was a whole subculture with this thing. Pages on pages on pages about it. A 'collar of consideration' was an actual thing and not something that Robert pulled out his ass to assert what he would consider to be more control.

He sighed, closed, and set aside his laptop. He needed to do something to clear his mind. Maybe a good run and workout. . .

#

"You look like you had a hard day."

Robert hummed as he relaxed in his favorite arm chair. TJ stood behind him, working out the tension in his shoulders.

"Nothing was going right today. If it wasn't one thing, it was another," Robert mumbled. "The day didn't end soon enough."

"Sorry about that. But you're home now. I even made your favorite cake," said TJ. "Wanna piece?"

Robert nodded. TJ left and return with a piece of said cake, one for the both of them.

"This is really good," Robert said. "You've gotten good at this."

"Thanks. You wanna talk about what happened at work?" He asked.

"Nah. I'd rather just forget about it," said Robert. "It was long day. What'd you do all day?"

"Nothing much. Cleaned, baked a cake, did some shopping, worked out. I got you a new suit, I think you'll nice in it. And I did some research."

"On what?"

"On the whole collaring thing," said TJ. "I thought you were just pulling all that out of your ass, but there's a whole thing with it. A collar of consideration is an actual thing. I had to pause when I read that."

"Ha, was it really that much of a shock?"

"Not a shock, just a surprise." TJ sat aside both their plates once they were done. "You really are a kinky bastard."

"Guilty," Robert said with a chuckle.

"But after all that reading, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested." While Robert sat back in his chair, TJ climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. "Maybe it's because I'm a masochist, but the whole ownership thing is kind of a turn on."

"See? It's not such a bad idea, now is it?" Robert teased.

"Maybe, maybe not. I'm still not 100 percent on board with it. Acting like a trophy husband during those fancy ass dinners is one thing, but a collar is another thing," said TJ. "But I'll give it a try. The whole 'consideration' part of it, I'll try it out for a while. Because I love you so much."

"Aw, you're so sweet. You'll love it, I promise."

"Uh-huh. We'll see."


	16. Job Offer

This is a joke. Don't take it too seriously.

I watched 'Butters Bottom Bitch'

* * *

Spinelli stood in front of the building, feeling unsure of herself. She exhausted all other options, tried everything else she could possibly think off to get herself out of her situation, but they all fell flat at her feet. Was she really going to do this?

She tried to calm her nerves. She scheduled an interview days ago, just to see where she would be hypothetically working if she really wanted to do this kind off work.

Prostituting.

God Bless the state of Nevada and all it's sleaziness.

She sighed. Well, she could always say no and pick up a third fast food job.

Spinelli steppe through the front doors. For a brothel, it lacked the tacky decor that she expected. Rather than being dimly lit with neon lights, the neon lights she could see were off, and regular lights were on. Standing behind the counter was a woman, neatly dressed with her brown hair pinned back in a bun.

"I'm sorry, we're closed until 5. You're gonna have to come back later," she said.

"I'm not. . . .? I'm here to talk to who runs this place," Spinelli said.

"Oh! Right, right. Daddy told us he was expecting someone coming in to look around," she said. "Give me a minute, I'll tell him you're here."

She turned and walked into the next room. Spinelli was left waiting. There was a small couch against the opposite wall, but she wasn't sure if it was safe to sit on. At least the front area was professional looking. Maybe the rest of the place looked decent. She could only hope.

"He'll be out in a minute," the woman said once she came back. "My name's Kate. You looking for a job here?"

"Yeah, I guess. I'm still not sure about this whole thing," said Spinelli. "Not that I have anything against women who do this sort of thing, it's just. . ."

"It's okay. A lot of girls come here because there's nothing else for them. Me included," said Kate with a laughed. "Don't worry, it's nice here. Daddy's really sweet."

"How long have you been here?"

"A couple of years. I'd leave, but this place is like home. Plus the pay is good," said Kate.

When the door behind Kate opened up, Spinelli expected a sleazy looking guy to step through. Maybe looking like he needed to learn what personal grooming was, or maybe dressed in one of those gawdy, over the top suits, something stereotypical of, well, a _pimp._

Not her closet childhood friend.

"Oh, hey Spinelli! No time no see!" TJ said, a little too cheerfully considering where they were. "How's it going?"

"TJ what the hell are you doing here?" Spinelli nearly shouted.

"Me? I run the place," he said. "I sort of have to be here. Thanks for keeping her company, Kate. So you're the one who called in looking for a job?"

". . .is this actually happening?" Spinelli asked no one in particular.

"You were the one who called, right?" Spinelli nodded. "Then, c'mon, I'll show you around."

Unable to speak, Spinelli followed him deeper into the building. She was pretty sure she entered the twilight zone. Or she was dreaming. One of the two.

"Right now I've got about a 44 girls working here. A lot of them left about a month ago so I'm looking to bring in about 15 more. It's usually not a problem, though. There's more than enough girls who try to get a spot here," he said. She followed him into a large open room. The walls were lined with expensive looking couches, and the room was decorated in fine decor that made it look more like a ritzy club than a whorehouse. "You're lucky you called in when you did. Openings get filled pretty fast here."

"TJ?"

"Yes?"

"Is this one of you elaborate pranks?" Spinelli flatly asked.

"Huh? No, this isn't a prank," he said.

"So you seriously run a brothel? This isn't a joke?" She asked.

"This isn't a joke. I own this place," he said. "How about you come back to my office?"

#

"You probably have a ton of questions."

"Hell yeah, I do. I remember in high school you wanted to go to law school, not run a brothel!" She nearly shouted. "What the fuck, TJ?"

"I mean, I did go to law school, for a while. But it wasn't for me," he said. "I did great and everything, but I didn't feel like I was in the right place. Like having a talent for something you're not really interested in. So I sorta. . .dropped out. . .got a job as a receptionist here, took over when the last owner retired, changed some policies, and now I own the most successful brothels in town. It's weird how life works out."

"Does anyone else know you run this place?"

"My family does, though they don't like it much. And it's not something I brag about on Facebook," He said. "It's not that I'm ashamed or anything, I just like keeping business and personal stuff separated."

"I need a minute to process all this. . ."

"Yeah, it's a lot to take in. But I can give you a tour if you're still interested in a job here," he said. "We've got plenty of time before we open."

"You aren't freaked out that I'm here?" She asked.

"Nah. There's not judgement here; a jobs a job."

Spinelli needed 20 minutes to process that the situation she was in was real. She sat in stunned silence in TJ's office, while he dealt with some paperwork, waiting for her to come back down to Earth. Once she did, she groaned, and rubbed her eyes.

"Alright," she said. "Give me the tour."

"Oh, you're back. Okay, c'mon, I'll show you where the girls work first," he said. Spinelli followed him to the front of the building and down another hallway. Right now it was brightly lit, though she was sure the lights would dim when it came time to work. The carpet looked freshly clean and looked to be either black or a dark blue.

"During the shifts, all the girls get their own room to work with their customers. We keep the rooms stocked with condoms. We operate on a 70/30 split, girls get health insurance, dental and vision, STD testing is required every three weeks, there's access to low income housing loans, steep discounts at the local community college, and help paying off student loans."

He opened the doors to one of the rooms. It was surprisingly well furnished, with a queen-sized bed with fresh sheets and cover, a love seat, wardrobe, and dresser. On the dresser was a fish bowl half-filled with condoms. The curtains and windows were open, letting the sunlight and fresh air as well. There wasn't a speck of dust or grime.

"Nice room," she scoffed.

"Thanks. The sheets and covers get changed after every customer, for hygiene. I even get the mattresses cleaned on a regular basis," said TJ. "We keep the rooms clean and spotless. No one wants to do this kind of work in a grimy room.

"If the girls are having any trouble with any of the customers, like one's being too aggressive or doing something they didn't agree to, we have guards, out in the front, and at the ends of every hallway. I want to make sure the girls here are safe."

"And what if one of them wants to quit?" She asked.

"Then they can quit, I'm not going to stop them. I don't keep them here against their will, Spin, and I make sure they have what they need."

"Right," she sighed.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Are you really trying to work here? I mean, I'm not going to judge or anything, to each their own, but why here?" He asked. She shrugged.

"I need a job. I needed a job a week ago. I've got bills, Teej," Spinelli said. "Life fucking sucks, I'm just trying to get back on my feet."

"Oh. I'm sorry. But, um, if you think that you have what it takes, I can sign you on and you can start working tonight, if you want," he said. "Or, you know. . .you can be one of the house cleaners. . .we're actually short on house clears after three of them left."

"House cleaner?"

"Yeah. You'd just be vacuuming and doing the laundry and making sure things look nice and clean before and after. That's always an option."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?! I'm standing here thinking I'm about to become a prostitute and there's a house cleaning job at the same place, you ass."

"I wanted to see if you were really gonna go through with it, sorry," said TJ. "C'mon, we'll rush through the paperwork and get you a uniform."

"Is it one of those sleazy maid costumes?"

"You don't want to wear one?"

"Oh my god, TJ."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! It's not one of those things. You can wear pants if you want, it's nothing special."

As it turned out the uniform was, in fact, something special. TJ led her back to the storage room where the new ones were all kept. Spinelli was expecting something like the house cleaners of hotels work, baggy khakis with a polo shirt, or something. These uniforms looked fancier. The top was a light grey button with a deep red collar and deep red at the ends of the sleeves, and easy to move around in without being uncomfortable. Between pants and a skirt for the bottom, she opted for the pants, which matched the red of the top.

All in all, you wouldn't guess that she cleaned at a brothel, or was about to.

"You'll get enough uniforms to cover for about two weeks, but if anything gets torn or worn out, you can come back here and get a replacement. I just ordered another shipment," said TJ.

"You've really gone all out on this place," Spinelli said. "I guess Kate wasn't lying."

"Huh?"

"She said you're sweet. Even when you're running a _brothel_ of all things, you're still your same kind self," she said. "I can't believe she called you _daddy_ though. You're handsome Teej, but you're not 'daddy' handsome."

". . .you know you really shouldn't insult your boss."


	17. Gretchen

Headcanon: TJ would make a. a good teacher/professor. b. a good house husband to whoever he marries and we need a fic about just that. I'm working on it.

* * *

Returning back to her office, Gretchen Grundler felt at home. Her office at the university was a second home to her, and she was happy to be here at any time of the year. However, this was the first time she had stepped inside in over a month. her devotion and passion to her work and research was something to be envied, but it was enough for her superior to 'strongly suggest' that she take a vacation over the summer. She had more than enough off time saved up, and it was over the summer, so what better time.

Never, in Gretchen's opinion, but after hours of talking she was convinced to step away from her research and get on a plane.

But now she was back, and classes were going to start in a few days. She needed to get her syllabi printed out and answer emails. . .

only seconds after signing into her computer, there was a knock at her.

"Hey, welcome back." It was Olivia, a fellow professor. "Did you have fun?"

"As much as you can while freezing. I managed to see the aurora borealis before heading south and catching the eclipse," said Gretchen. "I took pictures."

"Oooh, I can't wait to see," said Olivia. "But since you were gone, did you hear they hired a new professor to teach some of the 101 classes?"

"I remember them mentioning bringing in someone before I left. There's probably something in my inbox about it."

"He's in the lounge, doing the whole 'getting to know each other thing' Clarence insists we do, you know," she said. "You should come meet him. He's really cute, definitely refreshing to have a new face around here."

"But I've got all this work to do. . ."

"Just for ten minutes, that's it. C'mon, are you really in a rush to answer those emails?" Olivia asked.

"No, I suppose not," said Gretchen. She followed Olivia out an into the lounge room. A few of the other professors were already there, standing around and talking to the new guy. Despite her height, Gretchen's view of him was somewhat blocked. When they stepped inside, Clarence approached them.

"Welcome back, Gretchen. I hope you enjoyed your vacation," he said. "Come here, come here, I want you to meet our new professor."

They walked closer, and the crowd parted letting her see who it was.

"I want you meet Professor-"

"TJ."

She recognized him as soon as he turned round. It was hard to forget a goofy looking face like that.

"Whoa, hey, Gretchen! I didn't know you taught here," said TJ. "Small world."

"Do you two know each other?" Clarence asked.

"We went to school together," said Gretchen.

#

"I never thought I would see any of you guys again. This is a surprise to me."

The two of them at settled at one of the lounge tables once the crowd thinned out.

"You sure you're in the right place? Out of all the careers I imagined you taking, a professor was never on the list," said Gretchen. "I remember you wanting to get as far away from school as physically possible."

"Ha ha, I know, right? It's funny how things change," said TJ.

Thinking back on their brief time in middle and high school, once pranks and causing trouble was more of a hassle than it was worth,, Gretchen remembered him turning his excess energy towards two things, soccer and astronomy, both of which he showed interest in elementary. She had no idea that would turn into him becoming a professor of all things.

"But really, a professor? Why not an elementary school teacher? That seems more fitting."

"I know, but I really want a job where I can talk about space a lot. Like a whole lot. This seems to fit better," said TJ.

"Well you picked the right place. This is one of two college's in the state that offer astronomy as a degree, not just a class," she said. "We get a ton of students taking astronomy 101 at least. More than any other science 101, so you'll have your hands full."

"Haha, can't wait," he said. "So what are you teaching?"

"A couple advance physics classes, a couple advanced math classes, the usual for me," said Gretchen. "I would do more but the board won't let me."

"Geez, you're gonna burn yourself out if you teach too many classes, Gretch," said TJ. He glance at his watch. "Ah, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow?"

#

From the doorway, Gretchen watched him give his first lecture of the semester. To accommodate for the large class, it took places in one of the lecture halls. It was still odd, seeing him stand in front of a class, talking, and writing on the board. Like an actual professor. Bizarre.

She wasn't able to hear exactly what he was saying, but whatever it was, it earned a laugh from the class. So far, the board was covered in conversion formulas. Getting the basics out of the way, a good choice, she thought.

It was odd, seeing him teach a class. Or was it odd that he looked like he belonged there?

. . .

It was actually kind of hot.

God, how long has it been since she's been intimate with a man? Years. It wasn't like she didn't have men flirting with her when she occasionally went out with her coworkers, but she was never one for one night stands. Plus those guys didn't seem particularly bright.

Was she really having these thoughts about TJ.

Yes. Yes she was. Now what was she going to do about it?

#

"So how long have you been teaching here?"

With an hour before their next classes, the two of them met up for lunch to catch up some more.

"About five years now. I'm still working on becoming tenured. They keep saying they're working on it," Gretchen said. "Why'd you pick this college to teach?"

"Honestly? I picked it out of a hat," TJ said. "I like the city and the college, so I decided to settle here."

"Your parents must be proud. Their trouble making son becoming a college professor," she joked.

"Like you wouldn't believe. My mom can't stop talking about it, she's so proud," he laughed. "Especially after everything."

"Everything?"

"Oh, right. You don't know since we all lost contact," he said. "My last year of college, I met this girl. Her name was Chrisse. She was really great, we hit it off instantly. We were together after college and into grad school, but then she got pregnant. With twins! We were so scared, but we decided to keep them. We knew we were going to struggle, but we would still be together. But then the day came when we were in the hospital, and she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Once the babies were born, she lost so much blood so fast, the doctors couldn't save her. Just like that, she was gone."

"Oh. . .Oh, I'm so sorry, TJ."

"It's alright. It still hurts sometimes but I've mourned and moving on," he said. "Besides, I have two kids to take care of."

"How do you handle twins? One is a handful enough, but two?"

"Oh, yeah, I know. They're fun of energy. You want to see them?" He asked. He pulled out a picture from his wallet and handed it to her to see.

The picture was of a girl and boy pair of twins, both scruffed up and dirty, but smiling ear to ear. The little girl had brown hair in messy braided pigtails and the little boy' blonde hair was short, yet messy. They both wore overalls and t-shirts.

"Sophie and Sebastian, my little four year old hurricanes. They're the sweetest kids. If only I can keep them clean," he said. "Sophie's a bit of a troublemaker, but she won't let anyone bully Sebastian. Sebastian's shyer, he likes coloring, especially on the walls. They both can hold a conversation with you, though, it'll blow you away."

"You adore those two, don't you?" She asked.

"Yeah. I was scared shitless when I was on my own, but I kept working and going to grad school for them. I didn't know if I was ready to be a dad but I had to try."

"I'm sure you're a great dad, TJ. Your kids look happy," she said handing the picture back. By the look of things, she wasn't going to hook up with him any time soon, with his priorities to consider.

"Thanks, I try my best. I gotta get to my next class, I'll talk to you later, Gretch."

With their classes starting soon, the two of them went their separate ways. Well, she might not be able to 'hook up' with him anytime soon, he had to admit that him keeping to his priorities was admirable. But who knows, they would be spending time together regardless, and that was always a good place to start.


	18. The Contest

Spinelli put the last finishing touches on TJ's costume. The two of them were just about ready to head out and get to the costume dance at school. Usually she wasn't one for those things, but not this time.

"There. You look great," Spinelli said, stepping back, admiring her handiwork. "I did a good job."

"I'll take your word for it," said TJ.

The two of them looked like a matching pair, perfect for the couple costume contest at the dance tonight. Spinelli was damn sure she was going to win that contest so the Ashley's wouldn't have something to be smug about. She had a huge advantage over the others. As one of the rules for the contest that it the costumes had to be gender swapped, she expected the guys only being willing to wear a long dress no matter how much their dates pushed them.

"You're a beautiful princess, TJ," said Spinelli.

"I'm a beautiful magical princess," TJ said.

Spinelli stood in his room, wearing a black suit, cape with a deep red on the inside, a matching top hat, white gloves, and a white mask. The best Tuxedo Mask costume she could put together. She thinks she did a damn good job. And TJ was going as her Sailor Moon. Complete with a long blonde wig styled up.

"You're being such a good sport about this, even though the other guys are gonna rag on you about it," said Spinelli.

"I don't really care. They already tease me about being asexual. Though I'm pretty sure that's just because they're mad the girls invite me everywhere. It's high school, and we're just having fun," he said. He stood, checking the length of the shiny blue skirt. It topped right at his fingertips.

"Do you feel pretty?"

"I do feel pretty," he said. "I got long blonde hair and two big bows. I'm a beautiful magical girl. C'mon, let's get to the dance and win that contest for ya."

To say that they stole the attention when they walked into the school dance would be an understatement. Some of the other couples were dressed for the contest, some didn't, but it was clear that they, particularly TJ, put in an amount of effort that the others had not.

"TJ what the hell are you wearing?" Vince asked. He had gone with Gretchen, and they two of them were wearing swapped Snow White and Prince Charming costumes, and it was only his costumes dress reaching the floor that gave him any right to ask his question.

"A sailor moon costume. Spinelli made it herself, isn't it great?" TJ asked. "I had to shave my legs, though. Kind of a hassle to do. I don't see why girls do it."

"That skirt is so short," said Vince. "Did the boots have to be knee high and have heels?"

"It's fine."

"It really isn't."

"You look like a faggot." John, one of the football players said as he walked over, along with a few of other guys. They had opted out of the costume contest, in favor of easy to make from clothes already in their closets. "Jesus Christ, you'd gonna give the whole gym an ass shot if a breeze come by."

"Your girlfriend likes it," said TJ. He turned an waved to a small group of girls across the gym, which including Johns girlfriend. They each enthusiastically waved back."She looks nice."

"Like you would even know," John scoffed. "What are you supposed to be, anyways? a stripper?"

"Sailor Moon."

"Don't make fun of him, John," Amy, John's girlfriend said as she came over. "I wish more of the guys would loosen up and play along like you, TJ. It's just having a little fun. I'm sure you and Spinelli will win."

"Thanks. You know she made this costume herself. It's pretty amazing," he said. "I didn't know she could do stuff like this. Or maybe she just really wants to win this."

"You wanna come hang with us? These guys don't know how to have fun," Amy offered.

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you guys later, I guess."

He followed Amy over to some of the other girls. He was fully aware of the snickers and outright laughter of some of the other students, but like every other time it was about something else, he didn't pay it any attention. They could stay laughing, they always tended to stop when girls, some being their girlfriends, came over to talk to him. That always made them stop.

It was somewhat satisfying.

God, high school guys were so dumb.

ZZZ

He and Spinelli ended up winning the costume contest. It wasn't a competition, really. The two of them clearly put the most work in their costumes. They walked away with a pretty cheap looking trophy and a $500 gift card that was more than likely going to be spent on junk food.


	19. Menlo Pt 3

Menlo rung his hands seconds after looking at the time on his phone again. He glanced down both sides of the street from TJ's front porch, hoping that he would spot his parents car coming down the street. Today was the day he was being released from the mental hospital, and he wanted to be there to welcome him home.

He had kept his promise, visiting TJ whenever he could, bringing a book or two to save him from boredom eating away at him. Menlo had even kept his promise to himself, exacting revenge on the five people he viewed as responsible for his friends current situation. Whatever their exactly plans for college we're ruining from a few strokes of a pen.

When they finally arrived, he stood up as they pulled into the driveway. Menlo waved when TJ stepped out of the backseat, and TJ waved back. He spoke a few words to his parents before grabbing his suitcase out of the trunk. Menlo said a polite hello to his parents as they went into the house.

"I'd thought I'd never get out of that place," TJ said as he joined Menlo. They sat on the steps of his porch. "How's it going, Menlo?"

"Fine, I suppose. But shouldn't I be asking you that question?" Menlo asked.

TJ shrugged. "I'm doing good enough that the doctors think I'm safe to go home with a prescription," he said. "Now we just have to figure out what now."

"What about school? You aren't going back there, are you?"

TJ shook his head. "We think it's best if I just get a GED. It's not a good idea for me to go back there."

"It really isn't. it's just a cesspool of disgusting people," Menlo said. "I can barely stand it myself. You won't be missing anything."

"Have you heard anything from. . . you know?"

"No, I haven't. I've seen them around, though," Menlo said. "They don't look concerned with what happened, if that's what you're concerned with."

". . .Yeah. . .I figured as much," he said. TJ sighed, brushing back his hair. It's been a while since he cut his hair. Maybe he needed to take care of that. "I dunno why I still worry about it. After everything, my common sense tells me that I shouldn't give a shit about them or what they think, but I still do. And I hate it."

"Don't beat yourself up over it. The six of you used to be really close," Menlo said. He had to stop himself from telling TJ of his own plans for revenge. TJ might not know about it, but the others, they deserved it. It wasn't like they could trace it back to him, anyways. There were no cameras, and as far as anyone in school would care to pay attention, they weren't friends. So there was no reason to link them to it. "What are your plans, now?"

"After setting the last things up for homeschooling, I'm just focusing on that. I still don't know if I want to go to college. I never expected that I would, depression or not," TJ said. "I didn't think it was cut for it."

"And not everyone is. There's nothing wrong with that," Menlo assured him."You could learn a trade, instead. Or go to community college for a year to see how you like it."

"Mmm. I bet you're going to college, huh? Do you know what you're going to major in, yet?"

"Computer engineering."

"Oh wow."

"Did you expect something different?" Menlo asked.

"Yeah. I'd thought you'd go for something like statistics or accounting or something, I don't know," said TJ. "Why computer engineering?"

"I took a coding work shop last summer, and I loved it. Creating and working out the bugs to make a program that works perfectly was more enjoyable then I expected it to be, so I thought I'd explore it more. I could always change my major if I don't like it," he said. "What about you?"

"I already told you, I'm probably not going to college. . ."

"But if you were. What did you think you'd become when you were a kid?" Asked Menlo.

"President," TJ said. "I had a lot of wild dreams back then."

"I don't think it's a wild dream. You've got plenty of time to become president."

"But lets be real, Menlo. The chances of that are slim to none. It's not gonna happen," he said. "A lot of things aren't gonna happen so I might as well let those ideas go now. I'll probably get my GED, but after that. . .I don't know. I still need time to think."

"That's okay. You'll figure out what you want to do, I'm sure," said Menlo. "You were always good with coming up with a plan."

"Mmm. . .It's been a while since then," said TJ. "I hope you enjoy college, Menlo. Maybe I'll come visit you sometime. Whenever I get my shit together."

"I'll be looking forward to it," he said. Menlo paused before continuing. "Would you be willing to promise that you'll visit?"

"Haha, I see what you're doing. Making me promise because you know I can't break a promise no matter what," TJ said. "You're a lot more clever than I thought. . .Okay. Okay, I promise that I, TJ Detweiler, will still be alive to visit you in college."

The two of the shook hands. They continued talking for a while before they were both tired. They said their goodbyes and TJ headed inside while Menlo started the walk back home.


	20. Talks

"I'm glad you finally decided to talk, Robert."

Between their respective jobs, it was difficult for Robert and Warren to find a time for them to meet up and have a discussion that wasn't during company meetings and get-together's. What they needed to talk about wasn't something to do in public where someone cold overhear them.

When they both had the weekend free, it was spring, and no longer freezing outside, they were able to sit on the back porch and enjoy the warmth of the sun. Meanwhile, the subject of their discussion was out in the yard, cleaning up and checking the garden space for damage.

"Yeah. whatever. That's all we're doing," Robert said. "Talking."

"Of course, of course. Just talking. So, I'll start with exactly what I want," Warren said. He watched his husband work on preparing the garden boxes for this years flowers and vegetables. "I want your husbands mouth. I bet he sucks good dick, doesnt he?"

". . .He's alright."

"Ha, something tells me he's a little more than 'alright'. But I want to borrow him, just for a few hours. Or a few days if you're in a generous mood, but I'm not picky either way," Warren said. "He's cute; it's not fair you get to have him all to yourself."

"Life isn't fair," Robert snapped. "You're not getting him for a day, asshole."

"That's fine, a few hours is more than enough," Warren calmly said. "Me and my friends will still have enough fun with him."

"Your friends? You didn't say anything about any damn 'friends'!" Robert said, growing more upset with the conversation than in the beginning.

"Didn't I? Well, I suppose not," said Warren. He took a sip of his drink. "You don't think I'm the only one interested in your husband, do you? I know a few others who want to spend some 'quality time' with him."

"How many?"

"Just a small handful."

"I want an exact number, Warren, or this conversation isn't going anywhere," Robert warned.

"Besides me, four," he said. "They just aren't as forward as I am about it."

"Jesus Christ."

"You should feel flattered, I think. You're living the life in our eyes. We just want to have a little taste of that."

"You aren't working in your own favor here," said Robert. "What exactly am I supposed to get out of this?"

"That's a good question. I don't know what one of the richest people I know would want that they can't get for themselves twice as fast. What would you like?" Warren asked. "Would you like to watch?"

"Im not a voyager and hes not an exabitionist."

Warren shrugged. "Just a suggestion, Robert. Im not sure what would make a good exchange in thkngs like this. Perhaps you can think of something later."

If Robert was to be honest, watching didnt sound half bad, if only to make sure things didnt get out of hand. The idea made him feel like he had some control over this situation.

"So, he'll do _anything_ you want?"

"Within reason," said Robert.

"Can you make him take his shirt off?" Warren asked. "It IS getting a bit warm out here, and doing all that yard work must leave you sweating."

". . .you're such a pervert, you know that, don't you?" Robert mumbled. He pulled out his phone, typed a short message, and placed it face down on the table.

Out in the yard, TJ checked his phone after getting a notification.

"Are you serious?" He scoffed.

The two sitting on the back porch watched as the subject of their conversation took of his shirt.

"Ha, that's great," Warren said. "Goddamn, Robert. How do go to work everyday when he's at home waiting for you? I'd just work from home."

"I wouldn't get any work done at home," Robert mumbled. That was only a half truth.

"Ah, that too. Does he spend a lot of money? He looks like an expensive piece of arm candy."

" _Don't._ " Robert said, putting down his glass harshly. "Don't call him that. He owns the company just as much as I do. He gave me the half of the money I needed to start it. He knows just as much about the contracts and business deals as I do. If I'd ever get sick, he'd go to work in my place. So I don't want to you hear you or anyone else call him 'arm candy'. Disgusting."

"Alright, alright. I can see I touched a nerve," said Warren. "But I think we've made a lot of progress in this discussion, Robert. I should probably take my leave. How about we continue this talk another time?"

"That's presumptuous of you to think there's gonna be another 'talk'," Robert said as Warren stood. "Don't hold your breath."

Warren nodded, with a smirk on his face. Robert couldn't help glaring at him as he left. Bastard. He couldn't stand that smirk on a regular day and he sure as hell loathed it after this discussion.

"You look pissed." Robert looked up and saw that TJ was standing next to his seat, amused by his expression. That was a nice way to put it. "So is it safe to assume that things didn't go well?"

Robert sipped the last of his drink and stood from his seat. In one swift motion, he grabbed his husband, one arm around his waist and his other hand behind his head, and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. By now, TJ was more than used to Roberts bursts of possessiveness, but this one caught him by surprise.

"You're mine. You belong to me, got it?" Robert said. "Warren and his group of perverts can go rot in hell if they think I'm going to let them do so much as lay a hand on you."

"So it didn't go well then?" TJ teased. "I figured it wouldn't. You're way too possessive for any of that."

Robert nodded and hummed. He sure as hell was. He took TJ's hand and lead him back inside and upstairs to bend him over the new couch in the library.


	21. Mikey Pt 3

Oh look, a part 3.

I'm just winging it as I go, just a heads up.

* * *

Mikey couldn't bring himself to to drop and forget things leading up to that point like TJ told him. Call it him being too soft hearted, but he was still worried. How could he not be, seeing the condition he was in? And who the hell was that guy he got in the car with?

He didn't want to think about that.

But how was he supposed to talk to TJ now? At least before there was a sense of anonymity about who he was, and TJ thought of him as nothing but another customer, but now he knew who was behind that username. Besides, TJ probably blocked him on the site by now.

What kind of friend would he be if he didn't try?

#

As it turned out, TJ hadn't blocked him. He was still able to view TJ's profile, something the FAQ was explained he wouldn't be able to do if he was blocked and banned from viewing and interacting with him. Why he hadn't, Mikey didn't have a clue. Maybe he forgot what his username was and couldn't pick his out of hundreds.

But the hostility was still there when he tried to strike up a conversation. No more faking interest to pick up another customer (the thought of that still made him cringe).

#

Finding his apartment building was hard. It wasn't marked off, and it didn't look like it was inhabited by anyone. At first, Mikey thought he was at the wrong place before double and triple checking. The cars parked around was the only indication that anyone actually lived there. He sent a message to TJ, letting him know he was there.

When he finally came outside, TJ lazily waved him over. He only wore a pair of grey sweatpants and shoes.

"Did you have trouble finding them place?" TJ asked as the metal door to the apartment building shut with a loud 'bang'.

"A little. It doesn't look like a normal apartment building," said Mikey.

"Good. The less people who can find me, the better. I like my privacy."

They stepped into an old styled cage elevator. They rode it to the very top floor. After walking down a short hallway, they reached a door that TJ unlocked, letting him into his apartment.

It was a studio apartment, a large one with plenty of space to walk around and live. Large windows gave a good view of the outside. The kitchen had it's own section, and his bed was set up on a elevated platform. He spotted the couch on which the livestreams took place. Despite that, what caught his attention was an entire space dedicated to what looked to be art.

A number of canvases of various sizes, both blank and used, leaned against a wall. A drafting desk was against the wall, as well as another desk with a fancy looking computer. It looked like he wasn't lying about being in art school.

"Here," TJ said, handing him a bottle of water. "It's all I have to drink, I have to go food shopping. Unless you want alcohol."

"Um, no, that's okay," Mikey said, taking the bottle of water. "Did you paint all those?"

"Uh-huh."

"They're really good," he said. The paintings were of various things, portraits, landscapes, and even more abstract subjects. "Why'd you pick art school?"

"Because I'm a masochist, clearly" said TJ. He sat at the drafting desk, turning his attention to whatever it was he was working on. "C'mon, Mikey. You don't have to waste time with small talk with me. Just ask what you really want to ask. I'm used to just getting straight to the point."

That didn't help Mikey feel any less awkward about the situation.

"So. . .who was that guy you got in the car with?" He asked sitting at the computer.

"I don't give out my client's names. They like their privacy like I like mine, and I'm not risking losing him," said TJ. "He's a sugar daddy, and I'm his very attractive armpiece of a sugar baby. His words, not mine."

". . .Isn't that dangerous?"

"Most of them are just older guys who weren't able to be openly gay because of the time they grew up in, and now that they have money, want to catch up on what they missed out," TJ said. "Some just want to go out on dates, some want arm candy to show off. Some of them have really fucking weird kinks. But all of them have money they're willing to give for someone to spend time with them."

"And the livestreaming?"

"Did it out of curiosity one day. And suddenly, in one night I had enough money to pay three bills. It was fun enough, so why not keep doing it? What's that one line people keep saying? Find what you love and you won't ever work a day in your life? Ha." He coughed. "This line art is shit."

He balled up a sheet of paper and tossed it in the already full waste basket.

"What was that?"

"A waste of five hours," TJ mumbled. "Any more questions?"

". . .I just. . .I don't get it, TJ. Why?" He asked. "out of everything I'd imagine you becoming, this isn't one of them."

"What'd you expect?"

"A lawyer? A teacher? A principal? Hell, even an astronaut! Not a glorified prostitute!"

TJ shrugged and grabbed another sheet of paper from the short stack on his desk. "Shit happens, man. I don't know what to tell you."

"But you're not even happy."

"Who says I'm not happy?"

". . .You can't possibly be happy doing this, TJ," said Mikey. TJ shrugged.

"It never gets boring," he said. "Always something new. Always something exciting."

"How do you even get into this?"

"I needed money. Desperate times calls for desperate measures," said TJ. "Or something like that, I don't know. It's been a while. But you're not going to believe me anyways. And that's fine. I stopped trying to convince people of what I tell them years ago."

". . .how are you comfortable with it? Knowing that hundreds of people watch you doing those things?" Mikey asked. TJ shrugged.

"I've very comfortable knowing that they're paying to see me do it," he said. "We all get what we want."

Mikey watched him picked up his phone after it 'pinged.' TJ walked away from his desk and take a phone call. This gave Mikey a chance to get a look at what he was focused on this entire. . .meet up? Reunion? He was going to call it a reunion, since the six of them haven't seen each other in years.

Looking at the paper, Mikey found that it was a rough outline of what looked like a comic page. On a smaller table next to it was a stack of papers, both blank, and filled with more comic page drafts.

While TJ had said he was in art school, it didn't really click to Mikey that he did actual drawing. Pocking around, he found a few finished pages, fully colored, shaded, and laminated. It looked. . .nice.

"We gotta end this little. . .thing early," Tj said, getting off the phone. "One of my clients wants to show me off at a dinner. I have to get ready."

"Oh, um, okay. It was nice seeing you again, TJ," he said. "We should stay in contact."

"We probably shouldn't," said TJ. "I miss you guys, but be honest Mikey, how do you think the others would react to know about all this? You've got your answers, Mikey. You should just walk right out that door and forget about how to contact me."

TJ didn't give him much chance to argue, walking to a closet to pick out some clothes. Despite what he said, Mikey had more questions than when he came in, but it didn't look like he could do anything to get TJ to answer any more. So what else could he do, but leave?

He walked out o his apartment and then the building, feeling. . .something he couldn't put a word to, despite his talent in waxing lyricals. But it wasn't good.


	22. Possessive

Robert slowly ran his fingers through his husbands hair, having failed to keep it on the abandoned book in his lap. The book was forgotten as his thoughts shifted to the events of the day. It was quite eventful, filled with hours of discussions leaving them both exhausted, but satisfied. Very satisfied. His fingers trailed down to the new collar adorning TJ's neck.

He was always a possessive boyfriend and now husband. Not a lot of people who were comfortable with that, and that was fine, Robert wasn't one to impeach on peoples boundaries, but that meant finding someone who didn't mind, let alone like it, nearly impossible. But he did, and was resting in bed with his husband's head on his chest.

But goddamn, the possessiveness has been kicking up a lot the last few months. He didn't know which came first, the interest in collars or the possessiveness. It's been going down lately but still.

He wasn't going to stop this thing with the collar, though. That was hot.

Robert remembered the last dinner they were invited to. One arm was almost always wrapped around his husbands waist the entire time, glaring at Warren, who tried to strike a conversation, as if their private conversations weren't happening.

That collar of consideration was now in a small box in their dresser, replaced by the owner collar now around his neck. Or the bracelet when in public. Couldn't let everyone see what was his.

Maybe a vacation to the mountains would do the two of them some good to clear their minds and soak in everything that's been happening lately. Some fresh mountain air could do them some good.


	23. Subboardinate

He loved every inch of Robert's body. His gorgeous eyes that bored into his soul with every intense stare, his thick hair that he loved to run his fingers through, his tones muscles from his chest and arms, adding to his domineering posture that he used both at work and at home, his magnificent cock that Robert knew how to use to turn him into a submissive, horny mess.

He loved unzipping and unbuttoning Roberts pants, letting his hardening cock free. All 12 and a half inches of his length with thickness to match. How it feels in his hand has he stroked it, feeling the throbbing with every motion and pulsing. God, he couldn't get enough of that. Robert could do anything with him like this. Slipping the bulbous head past his mouth,over his tongue and down his throat, hearing Robert's moans and the grip his master had on his hair.

The weight of his length on his tongue, how his mouth and throat stretched to accommodate him, felt so goddamn good, being on his knees with his focus on on this, only to serve Robert's carnal needs with his own being a second priority. . .Fuck.

He didn't stand a chance at being anything but submissive against Robert, not like he was complaining. Robert, as domineering as he was, still let him top if he wanted to, as rare was that was. But it was never the same. Never as good or as satisfying as letting Robbie pull his hair and bend him over and do whatever he wanted to with him _goddamn. FUCK._

Dammit. He was supposed to be paying bills, not becoming a horny mess while his husband was still at work. He needed to wait until he came home to deal with his frustration. Or deal with it in a good enough way.

Maybe he could call Robert to come home early. . .


	24. And now for some humor

Saturday night, with TJ's parent out of town, he and Spinelli thought it would be a good night to have some good intimate fun for the first time. Besides, after weeks of talking about it, the two of them were ready.

Mostly.

"Are you sure you're ready, Spin? I mean, we can wait a little longer if you want," TJ offered.

"Nah, I'm ready," Spinelli said, kicking off her shoes. "I've been ready. Do _you_ need more time?"

"No! No, I'm ready, too. I just. . . there's something that I need to tell you before we do anything," he said. "It's kinda important."

"Okay, what is it?" Spinelli asked.

"Don't freak out. I'd imagine you might, but try not to," he said. Spinelli shifted her weight onto one foot and watched her boyfriend unbuckle his pants. This had to be some hell of a surprise for him to be this worried about it, but she had no idea what it could be. Maybe he had a pierced dick, that would be interesting!

And then he dropped his jeans and boxers.

". . .Well?"

"What the _fuck?!"_

". . .It's called Diphallia."

"Why do you have two dicks?!"

"I dunno. I was born with it."

"I mean, I _hope so._ Rather that than have it sewn on!"

"Are you mad?"

"Am I mad?! TJ, how do you expect me to react when I found out my boyfriend has two dicks?! What am I supposed to think?!"

"Lucky? I dunno, it's not like I share this information. You're the first person I've told," he said. "Do you think it's weird?"

Spinelli gestured wildly, reaching for the words that she couldn't find. It wasn't often that she was lost for words, but now? There wasn't one to be found for what was in front of her. She gave up and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I need a minute," she said, patting her jacket pocket for a pack of cigarettes. She gave him one more bewildered look before turning and leaving the room.

##

Considering how much of a shock this was, TJ gave her ten minutes before going to find her outside his house, pacing back and forth with a cigarette between her fingers.

"I thought you quit smoking," he said.

"I thought you had one dick," Spinelli snapped back. "We're all getting a surprise today, aren't we?"

TJ held his hands up defensively. "Alright, fair enough."

He leaned against the house, watching her pace until she was finished smoking and joined him.

"Questions?"

"God, I have _so many_." Spinelli said. "Do they both, you know, _work_?"

"Oh yeah, they work just fine," he laughed.

"And I'm the only one you've ever told?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I dunno. Aren't guys always weird about their dicks? It's not like girls are the ones drawing them on every surface," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Wouldn't you just walk into the locker room showers, balls out dicks swinging, showing off and threatening to steal everyone's past, present, and future girlfriends?"

"No? I mean, that sounds hilarious but I'd rather everyone not know the details about what's in my pants," he said. "I usually stay in the corner in the locker room, to keep the attention away from me."

"Have you ever thought about getting one of them removed?" She asked.

"My doctor said that he wouldn't recommend it. It's not like one is malfunctioning, so there's no need, according to him," said TJ. "Might as well keep them."

"This is crazy, Teej," Spinelli said. "How are we supposed to fuck?"

"I didn't take you to be one to back down from a challenge," TJ teased. Spinelli glared at him.

"I'm not. But you can't expect me to not be shocked by this!"

"I don't. It's kind of a big deal."

After a moment of silence, Spinelli spoke up again.

"You're asking me to be real flexible here, Teej." She said. "If this ends up being the best sex ever and we at some point break up, how am I supposed to go back to a guy with one dick? Huh? How?"

"We just won't break up, then," TJ said. "I think we're a great pair."

"So when it's the middle of the night and you're trying to jerk off, do you have to use both hands?"

". . . .that's kind of personal, but yes, I do," he said. "It's kinda of awkward."

"You know, when you said you had to show me something, I didn't think it would be _that,"_ she said. "A dick piercing, maybe, but not this."

"Ha, really? Sorry I didn't met your expectations."

". . .Alright."

"Alright?"

"Yep. Alright. It's like you said, Teej. I never back down from a challenge. Not even this one. C'mon, your parents are coming back in the morning."

"Oh, right. Yeah, come on!"

The two of them headed back inside for a rather interesting night.


	25. Competition

Between the deep inhales to gain his breath and the aches in his muscles, exhaustion was something that TJ was becoming used to tonight.

At this point, a good sleep was more than welcome with open arms, but the two people that had him sandwiched in the middle of the bed still had their little fued to hash out that _had_ to involve him.

"What'd I'd tell you, LaSalle?" Erwin mocked. "Only I can get him to scream like that!"

"That's amazing that you think that's impressive." Vince scoffed. "All that screaming doesn't mean shit if hes not screaming your name, like with me."

TJ peaked up at the two of them (damn his short height) before closing his eyes again. The two of them had always been competitive with each other. And in general, but at the moment, he was the focus on their feud after he and Lawson bumped into Vince when walking home. He should've seen it coming, having dated his friend before. Of course they'd fight over this.

He groaned as he adjusted his position between Vince and Lawson. What with them both being athletic, the two of them were fit as _fuck_ and two towers of muscle. He wasn't complaining, oh no. He was sure that in the back of his mind this was one of his fantasies. He just wished they'd take it easier on him.

"Look, I know you guys have this weird competition going on with me, but can we pick this up tomorrow?" TJ asked. "I do have things to do, you know. And you two have practice."

Vince wasn't having any of it. "Not when Lawson had the last saw on the issue!"

"Get over it, LaSalle!" Lawson mocked.

"Listen, one of you is gonna be the one to fuck me last tonight, alright? That's how this works," TJ muttered. "Competition be damned."

he thought the matter was, for lack of better words, put to bed. While he laid between them, ready to doze off, the two on either side of them shared a look.

"Hey," he heard Lawson whispered from behind him.

"Hmm?"

"You do yoga, right?"

". . .yeah, so? My sister got me into it after our parents wanted us to spend more time together when I was like, 10."

"So you're flexible, then?"

". . .Yeah. . so?"

"How flexible?"

TJ opened his eyes and looked up at the two of them. They had that look on their faces when they were up to something, and he didn't trust either of them when they had that look, and sure as hell didn't trust them together.

"Why are you asking?" He felt Lawsons hand travel up his leg and to his inner thigh.

"Because we need you to be if we're going to feel fair about stopping," Lawson said. "You think, uh, you can take the both of us at the same time?"

"Maybe, probably, I dunno," he sighed. "But you two are gonna find out, aren't you?"

He didn't need to hear a yes from either one of them. They tarted moving him to where they needed him to be for this. That wasn't a problem, considering how strong the two of them of them were. But they were gentle, oddly enough, kissing him and running their fingers through his hair.

It wasn't as if he was one to shy away from pain during thee sorts of things, but it was if they knew this was going to painful enough and didn't want to make it worse. And they were right. There wasn't enough stretching and yoga that would make him flexible enough for this to _not_ hurt. TJ bit down on the sheets to keep from screaming out, but they went slow enough at first to let him adjust.

Soon enough, they were going at a steady pace, and he was the usual mess when either one of them were fucking him into oblivion, which they were both happy to see. They were even more excited to hear who's name would be coming out of his mouth.


	26. Menlo pt 4

Menlo paced around his apartment, making sure that the slightest spec of dust wasn't to be found on any surface. It was nice, having parents willing and able to afford to help him get an apartment off campus so he could go to college without the added stress of a messy roommate to aggravate his compulsive cleaning and the overwhelming anxiety when in a mess.

But this was different. He had a guest. A guest who said he was going to be a few minutes late because of traffic.

Maybe he should make some tea. . .

Just as the kettle began to whistle, there was a knock at his door. Menlo took it off and answered. Standing outside his door, TJ stood with a duffel bag.

"Hey Menlo," he said. "How's it going?"

It's been a while since they saw each other. After _the incident_ , TJ went for his GED instead of returning to high school, though Menlo often visited after school, rekindling their friendship. But time for college came, and Menlo left to start his college career. The two of them called and texte, but that was different from being face to face.

"So how's college?" TJ asked. The two of them sat on the couch with a simple cup of black tea each.

"It's good. It feels nice to blend in for once," Menlo laughed. "I blend right in with the other students dressed like they're here to take college seriously instead of just partying. What about you?"

TJ shrugged. "Nothing much. My parents want me to go to community college next semester."

"You should! It'll give you time to figure out if you want a 4 year degree. And even if you don't, an associates degree is still useful."

"I guess so." He took a drink. "It's kind of hard to think far ahead. I didn't think I would live this long."

"But you are! And I'm glad you are," said Menlo.

"Thanks, Menlo."

The two of them sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying each others presence. Sometime when they were together, it ended up like this, just sitting around, not talking about anything, but it still did plenty to help each other feel better and relax. Sometimes words didn't need to be said, they supposed.

"You know at the end of summer, a few of my old friends came up to me," TJ started. "I was just walking around to clear my head."

"Which ones?"

"Spinelli. Mikey. Vince. They apologized for what happened. Or at least they tried to," he said. "It felt like they were trying to clear their conscience about it."

Menlo nodded. "What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything. I just walked away. I didn't have anything to say to them," he said. "I didn't want to talk to them."

"I think they wanted to clear their conscience too, considering when they came up to you. I wouldn't even bother talking to them. Real scummy people." Menlo sipped his drink. "Let's not think about that. You're visiting! We should go out and do something."

"Wow, _you_ of all people want to go out. What do you have in mind?"

"Nothing crazy. I'm not the type for clubs," Menlo said. "Much too noisy. I found this one quiet place that does poetry slams. I'm not one for poetry, but it's a comfortable atmosphere to relax in."

"Alright, if you say so." TJ leaned back in his seat. "It'll be something new."

"You haven't been out in a while?" Menlo asked. TJ shook his head.

"I'll go out and get groceries and take care of errands, but besides that, it's hard to get out of bed most other days. This new medication they have me on, I think it's starting work, though. It's getting better, I think," TJ said. "I hope. It's complicated."

"It's alright. As long as you're trying," said Menlo. "C'mon, we should get there early if we want a decent seat."

They left the mugs on the coffee table and headed out the door.


	27. Gretchen pt 2

"You know, I always figured that you and Spinelli would end up together."

After getting into a routine of the semester, TJ and Gretchen were able to find time between grading assignments and giving lectures to spend more time together and catch up. Like today, they were over TJ's small house, catching up over tea for Gretchen and coffee for TJ.

"Yeah, a lot of people did," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Turns out we weren't as compatible as everyone thought we were."

"What happened?" Gretchen asked. When heading to middle school, she was given the opportunity to go to one aimed towards gifted students, and since it seemed that the gang was splintering, there was nothing that was keeping her at the local high school. Since then, she had lost contact with the rest of them.

"We tried dating a little in high school. But. . . .well, you know she always had a temper," said TJ.

"I always assumed that would even out when she got older," Gretchen said.

"It was! She got into kickboxing in middle school, remember? She put all her energy into that. But I guess it wasn't enough, because she would go off and rage out of nowhere," he said. "I tried helping her, but I ended up breaking it off with her when she cracked a beer bottle over my head and I had to get stitches."

"She hit you with a beer bottle?"

TJ nodded. "It bled a lot and I still have a scar from it, but after that, I told her it was over and I didn't want anything to do with her."

"That's crazy. I didn't think she would be that aggressive," said Gretchen."What happened to her after that?"

"Her parents were killed in an accident a year later. She must've been staying with relatives because she still came to school. I heard her parents left her with a lot of money, but I dunno what she did with it. I went right to college after high school and haven't talked to the rest of the gang since then. I only know this much about her because we were neighbors," he explained.

"Wow, that's crazy. Out of everything I'd imagine would've happened, that didn't come close," Gretchen said before taking a sip of her drink. The sound of the front door being unlock interrupted their conversation. TJ put down his drink as his older sister, Becky opened the door, with Sophie and Sebastian running inside and towards him, into his arms.

"Dad!"

"Daddy!"

"Hey, my little munchkins!" He said, lifting the two of them up. "I was wondering what was taking you all so long to come home."

"They had a bad day at school, so I stopped for ice cream," Becky said. "I think they're in a better mood."

"Sure looks like it," said TJ. "Becky, this is Gretchen. You remember her right? She was part of my old gang."

"Oh yeah, I remember you. It's nice to see you again," Becky said, shaking her hand. "I'd stay for a little bit, but I have to get to work."

"Alright. Thanks for picking them up, again, Becky."

"Dad, who's that?" Sophie asked once Becky left. She pointed right at Gretchen without any sign of shyness.

"This is an old friend of mine. You two know those pictures I showed you when I was a kid? She's the one I told you was super super smart," he explained.

"Wow," Sophie said. "Are you really as smart as dad says you are?"

"I hope so. Everyone calls me a genius," said Gretchen.

"Okay!" With that, Sophie asked to be put down. TJ let her down, and she ran upstairs to her room.

"Do you want to talk about your bad day?" He asked Sebastian. He shook his head.

"Not right now," the little boy said. "Maybe later, Daddy."

"Alright. I'll be here when ever you're ready to talk about it," TJ said, setting him down. Sebastian nodded, and followed his sister upstairs. "Great kids."

"They look so happy, TJ," said Gretchen. "They're adorable."

"I know, right? I hope I'm doing a good job. It's not like I've ever had kids before."

"You're probably doing great. You were always good with little kids, even in elementary," she said. "Remember the kindergartners?"

"Haha, yeah. Those kids were crazy but they'd listen to me," he said. "Alright. I guess being a parent isn't one of those things you can't be sure you're doing a good job off until your kids are adults." He took his empty coffee mug and headed into the kitchen. "Do you want to stay for dinner? Friday is our pizza night, if you're interested."

"That sounds nice, if you don't mind," She said, moving to join him in the kitchen.


End file.
